Beauty and the General
by Darth T-Rex
Summary: New chapter. Grievous makes life difficult for Aayla and the other Jedi.
1. The Jedi Knight

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Star Wars, its characters or locations etc.

Author's note: Don't ask. I like Grievous. And I' m not a fangirl because I'm a guy.

Aayla Secura found herself staring down the muzzle of a military blaster that had been shoved, rather abruptly, in her face. She sighed and stared at it as she concentrated on the situation.

Standing in front of her were a dozen battle droids, spindly robots designed for combat that held laser rifles in their wiry hands. Their oblong heads bobbed up and down in a slightly goofy manner as they ordered her to put her hands in the air.

Aayla was unimpressed. She looked at the soldiers of the Separatist Union, and raised one eyebrow sceptically. Even with them thrusting their guns into her face, she was not afraid.

She was not of an imposing stature, but slim and elegant, the very essence of beauty that female Twi'leks like her were renowned for. Her skin was a light, pale blue colour, her simple, face smooth and pleasant, two long lekku hung from her head in the shape of hair from a human, and her body was slender and sensuous. She donned leather trousers and a tank top. Many had told her she was stunningly beautiful even among a beautiful race.

But the emotionless robots she faced were unlikely to care for her appearance. They made no move, evidently wary of her confidence. She looked around, at the steaming jungle, the dripping leaves, the lush foliage. And in front of her, the massive, forbidding steel bunker she was trying to enter. The guards had responded as she had suspected to her request to enter.

At last, the lead droid, the commander, squawked in its monotone voice, "This is your last chance".

Still she was not afraid. Because she was not merely a pretty face. She was a Jedi Knight.

In the blink of an eye, her lightsaber had vanished from her belt and appeared in her hand. She swung it up in an arc even as she ignited it, causing a three-foot, shimmering blue blade to burst into existence. It sliced through the commander droid without hindrance, and he fell in a pile of sparking metal and wires.

The other battle droids stared, then raised their blasters and fired. But Aayla was far too fast for them. The laser bolts hit nothing as the Jedi had leapt twelve feet into the air, and even before she landed in the midst of the guards she was swinging her sword in elegant arcs. Droids dropped to the wet rainforest floor in twisted heaps. In four strikes, seven droids had been destroyed. The remaining ones stepped back hurriedly, stumbling over tree roots and their own feet in an attempt to keep a safe distance from the Jedi Knight.

Aayla's gracile hand extended, and an invisible wave of the Force pummelled the battle droids, slamming them backwards into the wall of the bunker behind them, shattering them into pieces.

Another gesture from the Jedi, and the door to the bunker slid open. Aayla stepped inside, and looked around. In front of her was a long, bleak corridor. There was no sign of any activity. She pulled out a commlink from her belt and switched it on.

"Commander Bly?" she said.

There was a pause and a brief burst of static, then the coarse, rough but attentive voice of the Clone Commander replied, "Yes, General?"

"I've gained entrance to the facility. The Western Entrance. Is my beacon transmitting my location?"

As Aayla spoke, she was aware of a clanking noise. She looked up and saw ten hulking figures march down the corridor towards her. They loomed out of the darkness; burly, intimidating super battle droids, steel robots with strong arms, legs and a broad torso, with a sinister head tucked into the chest. Their right arms pointed at her: on the wrist of each droid was a powerful, repeating twin blaster. Aayla watched them warily. In open ground, she could probably have taken them. But in the cramped corridor…

"Yes, General", Bly's voice continued, the clone unaware of the danger the Jedi faced, "We're sending our troops now. Over and out".

The commlink clicked off as the super battle droids fired. Aayla slammed herself against the wall behind a support pillar, sheltering from the firestorm that would have annihilated her in such a concentrated environment. They kept firing for a moment, then the laser fire stopped. Aayla heard a clicking noise as one of the droids approached, apparently to check where she was.

As it got close, she leapt out and hurled her lightsaber at it. It plunged into its chest plate, then was recalled by the Force back to her hand as the droid slumped to the floor. She leapt back to safety before the droids could fire at her.

It was stalemate. The droids could not move down to face her and bring their weight of numbers against her in the narrow corridor. However, neither could Aayla face them in open combat.

The odds suddenly changed when a burst of blaster fire reigned down on the droids, destroying two of them and crippling three more. They returned fire at the arriving clone troopers, and the corridor was consumed in a heavy crossfire.

But the distraction was all Aayla needed. She stepped out from her hiding place and twirled her saber, inviting enemy fire. Two droids took aim at her: as they fired, she expertly blocked the shots with her length of plasma blade. The shots were deflected back at the droids, nailing them both.

The droids were overwhelmed by enemy fire and destroyed. Aayla beckoned to her troops and led them on. Trampling behind her were dozens of white-clad, fearsome clone troopers carrying huge blasters.

Blocking their way were two more standard battle droids, who did not even have time to look up before Aayla sliced them apart. The Republic warriors arrived at their destination: the reactor core.

Aayla looked at her troops and parted her red lips in a smile, "Do your thing, boys".

Within five standard minutes, the bunker was scattered liberally over a five-mile radius, and Aayla and her troops were back on the Republic Star Destroyer, heading for Coruscant. Mission successful.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Aayla walked slowly and solemnly through the corridors of the Jedi Temple, head bowed. Traditional brown Jedi robes were worn over her tank top and leather pants. She headed down the hallway towards a door that slid open for her automatically, and she stepped inside the Jedi High Council Chamber.

Seated around her were the twelve most senior Jedi Masters in the Order. Yoda, Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, Saesee Tiin, Aayla's good friend Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar… each of them a pillar of wisdom and strength, each with their own individual merits and view points.

It was two years since the beginning of the hellish Clone Wars, the conflict that threatened to tear the galaxy into a thousand pieces. Initially, the war had gone well, driving the droid army of the Separatists away from world after world. Then, six months into the conflict on Hypori, the war took a turn for the worse.

A sinister cyborg, calling himself General Grievous, had revealed himself as the new Supreme Commander of the Separatist Army. He had destroyed the attacking clone army force, and then decimated the Jedi that had been leading the attack. Aayla Secura had been one of those Jedi, one of the lucky few who had been lucky enough to be alive when the ARC trooper commanders arrived to rescue them.

Aayla reminded herself not to focus on such memories and walked into the centre of the room and bowed before her seniors, who regarded her for a moment in silence.

At last, Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward, "So, the droid tank factory on Inacc is destroyed. We congratulate you and your troops on your success, Master Secura".

Aayla bowed again.

"The Clone Wars finally swings back in our favour", Saesee Tiin mused.

Mace was more hesitant in his reply, "We must still be on the alert. This General Grievous has disappeared: a commander that seemingly confident would not simply abandon the war".

"If I may offer my opinion, Master", Aayla said respectfully, "He may have simply wished to retreat from the investigations of the Jedi".

Saesee Tiin smiled, "You see, Master Windu? I am not the only one who is optimistic about the situation".

Mace Windu returned the smile but said nothing.

"At any rate, to business", Even Piell declared, "We have a new assignment for you, Master Secura".

"Indeed" Ki-Adi-Mundi agreed, "We've received a disturbing report from one of our agents in the Outer Rim. The planet Cosko has stopped all communications with the Republic, and when our agent went to investigate, he discovered a droid army has taken over the planet. Cosko has always been populated by gangsters and criminals, but now…"

As Ki-Adi trailed off, Mace Windu looked at Aayla, "The planet is under siege. There are still many innocent civilians who cannot leave the planet living in fear. We'd like you to investigate and discover the cause of this terrorist takeover".

"Why do you think the Separatists chose Cosko?" Aayla asked.

"That's what we'd like you to find out", Plo Koon said gently, his great muscular form stirring within his voluminous robes.

Aayla nodded and bowed once, "Yes, my Masters".

She turned and left the room.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The Coruscant Base for the Grand Army of the Republic was a sight to behold. A massive fortified building, cavernous and intimidating. Aayla hated going there. It was a symbol of what the Republic had become: a massive warmongering body.

In the hangar for the Legion of the 742nd , the young female Jedi watched as the clone troopers marched into the Republic Acclamator Class Assault ship with infallible precision. The tramping of heavy metal boots filled the hangar as they boarded the ship, followed by various tanks and attack vehicles. Aayla's army, the one she had been designated to lead into war throughout the galaxy wherever she was required.

An unmistakable presence approached her. She turned and bowed respectfully.

"Master Windu, is everything alright?"

The tall, sombre Jedi nodded, "Yes, Aayla. I just came to see you off. You understand, of course, that we cannot afford to send another legion with you at the moment due to the widespread nature of the conflict?"

"Yes Master, I understand".

"Good. If you need assistance, contact me. I will be on Mearvis with the 2nd Legion".

Aayla looked at him, "You think I may require assistance?"

"It is possible. We are wary of this mission, Aayla. We wouldn't have sent you to clean up the situation unless we thought a Jedi of your skills was necessary".

A fact. Not a compliment, a fact. As the starship's engines roared and the blaring announcer declared the ship was ready to leave, Mace placed one hand on Aayla's shoulder.

"May the Force be with you".

"And you, Master", she turned and headed towards the ship, and towards war.


	2. Espionage

Author's note: Thanks for the review! Much appreciated. Grievous will make his appearance very soon. Which reminds me, there's not a lot of back-story to this because I can't be bothered to go over the whole "Jedi and clones invade Confederacy planet" thing in too much detail. It just gets pretentious and repetitive.

Anyway, on with the show:

Commander Bly, decked out in his heavy clone armour and with his additional ARC pauldrons and markings, stood on the bridge of the Assault Ship known as the Precision. The ship was cloaked and was descending rapidly towards the planet Cosko. An unusual planet for one near the Outer Rim: it was not a mono-habitat world. While home to massive barren wastelands, certain areas of the planet were densely inhabited and rich in resources.

General Secura approached him. He saluted and turned to face her.

"General, we are ready to deploy our army at a moment's notice".

She nodded, "Good. Do we have any idea where the droid armies might be stationed?"

"Yes General. Our scans suggest that there is a high concentration of droids in Sector 12".

Aayla sighed to herself. The clones, while certainly very reliable and well trained, failed to see matters in anything but militaristic terms. One frustrating practice they employed was to scan a planet for enemy forces, and then divide the planet into twenty sectors and base their plans around this. What they failed to realize was that one twentieth of even some of the smaller planets was no small distance.

"Do you have any more specific information, Commander?"

Bly nodded and directed her attention to a control console, "This area of the planet is wasteland, with severe impact craters from meteor showers. We believe the droid army to be stationed in the largest one, due to the readings we have from it. If we were to land a small scouting force forty miles from the source of the readings, we could get a closer look before attacking".

Aayla smiled in relief that they were not required to search one twentieth of a planet, "Well, we should deploy the scouting force immediately. I'll go".

Bly looked at her sidelong, his expression invisible beneath his mask, "You'll lead the BARC troopers?"

She shook her head, "No. I'll go alone, to avoid detection. Do you have a BARC speeder standing by?"

"Yes, General".

OoOoOoOoOo

A mere half an hour later, Aayla was racing across the barren, grey rocky plains of Cosko. The speeder controls were pleasantly familiar to her, and her Force heightened senses allowed her to dodge and weave through the treacherous terrain with ease. The background constantly shifted in a never-ending haze of dust.

In front of her in the gloom, she could begin to make out dim lights. Skilfully, she bought her speeder to a halt behind a ragged outcropping and leapt from the seat. Pulling her Jedi robes over her for concealment, she advanced on foot, moving with her head down, fairly leaping from behind rock to behind another rock, closer to the source of the lights.

A vague shaped loomed in the dust. A facility of some sort. She moved quicker and with yet more subtlety to avoid detection. The fiercely angled, blackened building towered into life above her. She crept closer until she was swallowed up by the shadow of the facility, pressed up against the cold steel wall. The harsh stench of oil, gears and fire hit her, almost causing her to gag. The familiar sulphurous stench of a droid factory.

The smell was leaking out from the cracks surrounding a door in the gloom. Glazing light was eking out too. Aayla allowed herself to relax, for her mind to be at peace, as she used the Force to probe the area for immediate danger. There was none. She approached the door and tried to open it. It was locked.

She ignited her lightsaber and in one swift movement plunged it into the locking system. The door swung open as she switched off her blade and crept inside.

She was on a black durasteel walkway, rickety and rusted. The walkway extended all around the room, leading off to many other doors. Below her and the platform was a massive, cavernous storing room.

It was packed to the brim with battle droids.

She looked at them. Hunched over, deactivated and ready for transport, straight to the front line. Probably recently constructed, judging by the stench of fuel in the air. There were standard trooper battle droids and half as many of the imposing super battle droids. From a quick look, Aayla estimated there to be 5,000 droids in this room alone, and she knew there were likely to be many more in this facility.

But this alone warranted the clones' landing. She produced her commlink from her Jedi utility belt and switched it on. She waited for a moment before the gruff, deep voice of Commander Bly replied.

"General?"

"I've found what I believe to be a droid factory and storage depot. Land immediately, this will require a full scale assault", the Jedi replied.

"Yes, General".

"My co-ordinates have transmitted successfully?" she asked.

"Yes, General".

"Good. Will you be ready to attack as soon as you land?"

"Yes, General".

Aayla smiled good-humouredly at the monotonous reply of the clone, "Take care, Commander. I'll investigate some more. Call me when you land. May the Force be with you".

She switched the commlink off and returned it to her belt. Glancing around carefully again, she lifted her robes over her and lowered her hood to cover her face until she just appeared to be a shadowy figure amongst the gloom. With light but sure-footed steps, she moved quickly along the walkway.

There was no sign of any movement as she headed for the nearest door, nor could she sense anything through the Force. The door slid open and she stepped inside, looking warily from side to side.

A lone battle droid with red markings, identifying it as a security droid, stood in her way. It was as surprised to see her as she was to see it. It raised its blaster rifle, although it flew through the air, hurled by the Force, to crash against a wall in a broken, sparking heap.

Aayla frowned. Why couldn't she sense the droid? She had probed the room before entering; even a lone droid should have alerted her. This was unfortunate. Whoever it was commanding this facility would notice a guard was gone from the control consoles and send more droids to investigate. She had intended to remain undetected, but now that was going to be more difficult…

Then she sensed it. A disturbance in the Force. Not a surge like the presence of a Force-sensitive…simply an alteration. Something that blotted out all else as a threat, rendering any nearby battle droids as irrelevant. A strange hybrid of fire and ice, of angry wrath and calm, calculated evil. Something she had sensed only once before.

General Grievous.


	3. Monster unveiled

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad people are interested, much appreciated!

Aayla glanced about the small room in as close to panic as a Jedi Knight could come. Where was he coming from? That dreaded monster she had been overwhelmed by on Hypori…the very thought of his presence made her blood run cold.

There was a door to her right, a door to her left and the door behind leading back to where she had come from. Still she waited, ready to spring into action.

The sound of heavy footfalls reverberated around her, suddenly frighteningly loud. The clanking of robotic magnapeds, and the thuds of more weighty feet. And finally behind those, a clicking and whirring, the sound of duranium claws on cold steel.

It grew louder and louder, and Aayla was still unsure which direction it was coming from. Eyes darting about the room, she hurled herself into a dark corner and shrank down, hoping to hide herself if she was unable to escape. Just as she did, the door that led to the droid depot slid open and several figures entered.

Four super battle droids lead the way, their right arms locked in a no-fire position, but ready to switch down and unleash heavy laser fire at a second's notice. Behind those came two droids of a type Aayla had never seen, but recognized from a Jedi Intelligence report.

Humanoid, but crafted from dark silver metal. Ragged, torn capes were flung over their right shoulders and forming a crowning head wrap at the gruesome skull of a face. Gleaming red photoreceptors, looking like the eyes of a predator, glinted out of the darkness. In the right hand of each was a long staff with a strange looking discharge blade at the end of each side. The droids were scarred and slashed by what looked like both blaster fire and lightsaber burns. Evidently these droids has survived conflicts with both clone troopers and Jedi.

MagnaGuards. The personal droid bodyguards of General Grievous.

And behind these war droids came him at last. A hunched over skeleton of duranium metal, pale and ghastly, the colour of bone. He walked over in a nearly doubled-over gait, but still he seemed huge in the small room. His arms and legs were twisting, sinewy apparitions of metal, and at the end of his powerful arms were six fingered, clawed hands. For feet, massive curved talons stabilized the giant cyborg. A low, mask-like helmet was perched on the crooked neck, flanked by twin bladed fins. At the end of the tubular snout, a grid not unlike the teeth of a carnivore formed the vocabulator of the droid body.

Only two signs any life in the twisted monster were present. A ghost-white cloak, with a striking scarlet red interior, hinted at a sense of pride and arrogance. And emblazoned in the helm were two eyes, red craggy flesh surrounding fiery yellow reptilian eyes.

Aayla huddled down, resisting the urge to gasp in terror and shock at seeing the sight of the ruthless General Grievous, the hideous beast that had slaughtered many of her comrades and come close to killing her too. She had forgotten what a disturbing sight he was.

The droids and the General marched on with surgical precision, their feet clacking on the floor with the precision of the soldiers they were. For a moment Aayla thought they were going to pass right by her and move out of the left door without spotting her. Indeed, the super battle droids passed her by, not noticing her.

But then the MagnaGuards stopped and Grievous behind them. The super battle droids clicked to a halt as they realized their superiors had stopped. Slowly, Grievous and the MagnaGuards turned to look in Aayla's direction.

The blaze of the MagnaGuard photoreceptors in the gloom blinded Aayla when they looked at her full on. She shifted her head to look away and close her eyes, fully aware the hour of her demise was upon her.

There was a slight pause, and then Aayla heard the rhythmic clicking of taloned feet approaching and motors in Grievous' legs whirring. She could hear the soft hiss of his breath as he inhaled and exhaled at an uncomfortably close range.

Another pause, this one seeming to stretch for light-years. It might have been a second, it might have bee five minutes. Aayla didn't know. In her moment of deepest shame, she kept her eyes shut and did not face her adversary.

A deep, growling voice, distorted by the vocabulator, suddenly filled her mind, "Is this what the Jedi have sunk to?"

Slowly, almost painfully, she opened her eyes and looked at the mask of death inches before her face. But still she could not speak.

"Cowering in a corner of a Separatist base, silently pleading to their beloved Force to spare them?" he went on, his lizard pupils locked onto her soft brown eyes.

Gradually, she drew up the ability to speak, "What…what do you want?"

His eyes narrowed, "I should be the one asking you that, since you are an intruder in a Confederacy facility. However, I refuse to do so in such a spineless manner".

One clawed hand shot out and seized Aayla, gripping her by her cloak and hoisting her into the air, slamming her against the wall violently. His crooked legs straightened out, and suddenly he was seven-foot tall, head touching the ceiling and glaring her in the eye as he held her there, her legs hanging limp nearly two feet above the floor.

"What are you doing here, Jedi!" Grievous roared, deafening Aayla and shaking her like a rag doll.

The physical threatening sparked something in Aayla. She stared at him defiantly, proud but battered.

"Jedi arrogance!" the cyborg snarled and shook her again whilst tightening his grip.

The force he exerted was astounding and Aayla could see spots in front of her as her vision blurred. Her bones ached and her limbs dangled loosely when he shook her with what seemed like enough strength to break her neck. But still she held on, something resembling anger spreading through her at the monstrosity that held her.

As he ceased shaking her, something clinked against her belt. Her lightsaber. In the urgency to interrogate her, Grievous had apparently forgotten about it. She dared a glance down at her weapon. She could call it to her hand with the Force and strike in the blink of an eye. But at what? Grievous? Somehow she imagined he would be able to strike back. And even if she did maim him, there was the MagnaGuards and super droids to contend with.

One of the MagnaGuards noticed her glance at the deactivated hilt and suddenly stepped forwards, speaking in a quiet, deep monotone voice "Sir, may I remind you the Jedi still has…"

Grievous shifted his gaze slightly to the MagnaGuard to listen. As he did, there was a blazing blue flash of plasma energy. His heightened reflexes saved him, his hydraulic high-powered legs sending him leaping back out of striking range as he dropped the Jedi.

There was another slash of blue energy and a cloud of sparks and smoke. Even as the MagnaGuards activated their staff weapons and stepped forward to protect their master, the smoke cleared and their was a clatter of metal as a sizable chunk of wall fell away, burned at the sides by a lightsaber.

The Jedi had sliced away the section of wall and dashed away.

With a furious bellow, Grievous ran after her. The MagnaGuards followed, lunging with superhuman agility, the shimmering amethyst EMP fields at either end of their staffs buzzing loudly as the droids charged on. Behind them, the relatively slow super battle droids clattered along, their guns clicking to hostile position.

The collection of droids and the General shot down the corridor to the left, thundering after Aayla as she reached for her commlink.

OoOoOoOoOo

Aboard the cruiser known as The Dominator, Jedi Master Mace Windu waited on the bridge, watching the planet Mearvis before him. The 2nd Legion under his command had scanned the planet and discovered no signs of enemy forces, incursion or even influence. Another huge diversion to waste resources in the horrific game that was the Clone Wars.

With a grunt of mild irritation, Mace turned away and looked at the Clones and Republic Officers at work on the bridge. Just as he was about to ask for some information regarding the status of the ship, his commlink beeped loudly.

His hand whipped it out in the blink of an eye and activated it, his quick mind recognizing the code instantly, "Master Secura?"

There was no reply at first. Muffled, static noises overwhelmed any message that might have been coming through.

Mace tried again, "Aayla? Are you there?"

Her voice came through, high-pitched and in ragged, tired and frightened gasps, "Master Windu? This is Aayla Secura. I-" the transmission was garbled with background noise, "-clones to invade…hange of plan. Griev…urfac".

Mace paused for a moment as he tried to decipher the strangled speech, then his eyes widened, "Aayla! Are you saying Grievous is there?"

"…es. He is".

Mace didn't waste any time and he turned to the Officers on the bridge, "Get us into hyperspace! Planet Cosko, it's less than half a parsec away. Commander, get the troops ready for a surface attack!"

Aayla still continued to talk into the commlink, "Call Commander Bly and ask…my co-ordinates. We can still achieve the objective".

Mace Windu nodded, "Yes. Are you sure Grievous is on world? How can you be certain?"

There was no answer for a long time. Faintly, the sound of running could be heard, boots stamping on metal flooring. And then a vague but unmistakable sound: the hum of swinging lightsabers.

The commlink went dead.


	4. Chased by the General

Author's note: Cool, more reviews! Thanks again.

"Call Commander Bly and ask for my co-ordinates", Aayla said as calmly as she could while she ran down the dark corridor, "We can still achieve the objective".

She dared a glance behind her and saw her pursuers charging after her. Grievous and his MagnaGuards, Grievous in lead. The super battle droids had apparently been left far behind.

For the last few hundred meters of twisting corridors, they had been hot on her heels. The Force granted her the speed she needed to match their hydraulic-powered legs, but unlike her they did not slow on corners. Apparently, both Grievous and his elites had magnetized feet, for they leapt onto the walls and clambered over them with ease, not even slowing down and in fact gaining ground as they leapt after her.

They were gaining on her.

As she kept her eyes on them, she saw the General reach into his flapping cloak and produce two lightsabers. One in each hand, he ignited them, filling the dingy corridor with green and blue shimmering light.

She heard Master Windu shout something down the commlink, something to do with Grievous. But she had no time to answer, for out of the corner of her eye she saw Grievous take a few massive, loping strides and raise a blade.

The Force guided her actions, and she dropped and rolled, hitting the floor hard and holding her lightsaber out from her body so as not to impale herself. The hand holding her commlink was held up, exposed as she went down. It exploded in sparks as Grievous' blade plunged into it, narrowly avoiding maiming her hand. Thanking the Force internally, she leapt back to her feet and ran again, this time not daring to look back.

Instead, she extended one hand and used the Force to blast the cyborg and his warriors, intending to hurl them over. But even as she did, she realized it was ineffectual, striking the metallic marauders but their magnetic feet stabilizing them, holding them up for no more than a second as they regained their balance and then leapt forwards.

The fight for survival Aayla was embroiled in was not in fear for her own life. It was in fear for failing the Republic and failing the mission. But it was also in fear of Grievous butchering her and taking her saber, the fear of her death as another mark in Grievous' sickening tally of Jedi he had slain. She could not allow him to use her blade to slice up other Jedi when she was dead and gone, to have him boast to those that would listen how he obtained his "trophy".

Someone was talking quietly into a commlink, possibly Grievous giving an order to someone or something. She ran on, turning around another corner only to despair at yet another expanse of corridor before her. She couldn't keep on like this. Even with the Force to help her, her lungs were pounding and her legs screaming with pain.

From a door to the right there was a blur of movement. Three bronze wheels rolled into the room and whirled to face Aayla in one fluid movement. Suddenly, they began to unfold, three rickety legs propping a heavy body up, an angular collection of wires and metal plates. A curved shell of metal with a small, wicked looking head thrust forwards from each droid. Two crooked arms with massive twin blasters unslung from each droid to aim at Aayla. A burst of energy, and suddenly each was enfolded in a bubble-shaped deflector shield, capable of reflecting blaster fire, EMP weapons and even Jedi lightsabers.

One of the most feared units of the Separatist army. Droidekas, or destroyer droids. The three killing machines, each with enough firepower to wipe out dozens of clone troopers, opened fire.

The narrow corridor was filled with laser fire. Far too much for her to begin to deflect, but no concern to the massively armoured cyborg and MagnaGuards behind her.

Most Jedi, despite their martial prowess, would have dropped dead in seconds, caught as it was between two evils. But Aayla leapt, allowing the Force to guide her. In the cramped corridor, she passed mere inches above the shields of the droidekas and landed behind them. She kept running, not looking to see the effects of her ruse.

A sharp shout of anger came from behind her, followed by clanging and clattering. Probing for a moment with the Force, Aayla could see Grievous and his guards screeching to a halt before the droidekas. Agile and limber as they were, they were too large to squeeze through like Aayla had done.

Aayla sprinted on as a clicking and whirring noise informed her the droidekas had curled up to allow their General through. She wasted no time. Ahead of her; a large window. She had no idea how far off the ground floor was. But she had no choice. It was enough.

She leapt and smashed through it in a splinter of transparisteel. The hard, rocky floor was at least two hundred meters below her. The facility was evidently on some kind of drastic slope. But she would survive the fall.

The Force screamed at her to look behind her, and she saw Grievous and the MagnaGuards leap after her, equally unconcerned about the height of the plunge, their cloaks snapping in the wind. In mid-air, Grievous twirled his sabers at the Jedi, promising death.

But while the droids had the advantage on cold steel flooring, there was no magnetism to save them here. As together they fell to the earth, Aayla extended both palms towards them and Force-pushed them as powerfully as she could.

Grievous and his guards were propelled backwards, slamming into the side of the facility with punishing power, buffeting against it as they fell, twisting and rolling in their capes to the floor in an ungainly mess.

Aayla used the Force to control and soften her landing, although the impact still knocked the wind out of her. She hit the ground running however; veering away to the left to escape the ruthless General who she did not doubt would survive the fall intact.

A looming Republic cruiser raised her spirits. She headed left towards it. It was taking off: evidently Bly had already dispatched the troops. Not daring to look back, she headed towards the sea of white clone troopers that foamed towards her.

They drew closer now, two hundred meters or so away. Suddenly, the air was riddled with blaster fire. Cyan bolts shot in Aayla's direction, and red beams were fired from behind her. A droid army behind Aayla had attacked and the clones were returning fire. And Aayla was stuck in the middle of them.

Legs weak from fatigue, she leapt into the air, performing a spin in mid-air and she landed in the midst of the clones, safely out of the crossfire. At last she dared look around, and saw thousands of droids advancing on their position.

There were scrawny battle droids with their blaster rifles, brutal super battle droids with the rapid-firing guns on their wrists, lethal droidekas here and there in the ranks. Four legged spider droids with gleaming red eyes and a singular huge laser cannon swarmed forwards, hoop-wheeled hailfire droids unleashed scores of heat seeking missiles, fearsome crab droids of varying sizes advanced, Trade Federation AAT tanks that hovered almost elegantly above the surface but were murderous in appearance, and then there were the giant Corporate Alliance Tank droids, with crawler tracks that spanned the length of their heavily armoured bodies and an impressive array of cannons at the front of the vehicle.

Grievous was not holding back. He had thrown the might of this army into the fray against the clones in a massive, all-out assault. And Aayla knew this was merely one army of many. The clones returned fire and battle droids dropped and span about in spastic circles as they were shot down by Republic blasters. But the rate of fire from the Separatist army was overwhelming, and even the Republic gunships circling above could not divert the attention of enough droids. As Aayla stepped to the front ranks to deflect laser fire, a pounding shot from an AAT slammed into a few clones and sent a dozen of them flying through the air, burnt and mutilated. The first rank was rapidly disintegrating.

Still, Aayla leapt to the front and began twirling her lightsaber in careful, precise arcs, turning fire away from herself and the clones and back towards the droid army. With hand gestures and blasts of the Force, she did her best to divert as many of the missiles as possible.

Commander Bly appeared beside her, firing his large rifle and gunning down several super battle droids, who were now only two hundred meters away and still advancing.

"We have to retreat!" Bly shouted over the roar of battle to his Jedi General, "We were ambushed! We need to get to a safe landing spot and get the cruiser to land!"

"You were ambushed?" Aayla asked as she twisted about and sent six laser bolts back into the metal guts of a super battle droid with a subtle angle of her blade.

"Yes, we could see only the infantry droids and so we began our attack. Then those tanks showed up, bursting through the side of that hill", he took a break from firing to point briefly at a distant rocky hill, "Probably orchestrated by Grievous himself".

Aayla looked at the hill and a saw a crater and track marks where the tanks had evidently burst out of after being carefully laid in hiding, "The General was busy with me, so he probably had this as a backup plan. Typical Grievous ploy".

"So let's get back to the ship!" Bly's blaster rifle suddenly sparked and burst open as a laser shot slammed into it; without hesitation he chucked it aside and whipped out twin blaster pistols from holsters and continued firing.

Aayla was about to agree when she felt a shift in the Force. A presence, soothing yet demanding. Mace Windu.

She looked up, and her suspicions were confirmed when three huge Republic cruisers appeared from hyperspace almost directly above them. After a moment of trying to process the matter, the droids wheeled about and fled, but not before a salvo of cannon fire rained down on them from the starships. Two thirds were blown apart before the rest managed to limp away.

If the clones were truly normal humans, they might have raised arms and cheered at being saved from certain death. Instead, they snapped to attention and began marching in the direction of the landing cruisers. Aayla however, allowed herself a smile of relief before going to rendezvous with the arriving army.

A dark shape suddenly leapt from the descending starships and landed in front of Aayla with meticulous precision. Master Windu.

"Aayla, are you alright?" Mace asked worriedly.

"Yes, Master Windu. A little tired but uninjured".

"What happened?"

"Grievous and his elite discovered me. I managed to escape".

Mace looked almost surprised, "A feat many unfortunate Jedi were sadly not able to achieve, Aayla. You were skilled to do so. What happened to Grievous"?

"I do not know. The last I saw of him, he took a tumble from that facility", she pointed with her still ignited lightsaber in the direction of the droid foundry.

Master Windu nodded slowly, "He's not dead. He'll probably be giving orders to his troops again already. I shall lead this assault personally. Three more Knights are with me. You'll need to rest, Aayla".

The Jedi shook her head, "You may need my help, Master".

"You are weary and in no condition to fight. We have a med lab on my cruiser. You should go rest and recuperate".

"Master, if Grievous leads the defences, the clones will need as much Jedi direction as possible. He is a ruthless commander".

Mace looked at the distant, retreating droid army, "We have beaten off the first wave. But now the General will rally all of his forces and hurl them against us. You are right, your help will be appreciated", he turned to look at her, "But only if you are up to it".

She smiled, "Always, Master".


	5. The General muses

Notes: Yo, here's an update. Recently I re-read this story and decided to abandon it would be a bit of a waste really. I have a clear and unusual idea as to where this story's going.

In case anyone who originally read this story is reading it now, I apologize for the lack of updates. My temporary disillusionment with the Star Wars franchise was probably the main reason. But hey, I finally realized that Star Wars can be whatever you make of it. Fanfiction is a good way to see how you might like for it to have played out.

Also, I'm aware that this chapter is short and somewhat, well, poor. Certainly the first half. But I'll update regularly now and get this story done.

But again: big apologies, and if you get chance, please read and review. Many thanks.

Battle raged on the bleak plains of Cosko. Grievous had unleashed the full might of his droid army against the invading Republic forces. For hundreds of miles around, war was waged on a vast scale the level of which was unknown to this area of the galaxy.

Platoons of clone troopers gunned down hundreds of battle droids and super battle droids, blazing away with heavy weaponry to obliterate even the deadly droidekas, only to be wiped out by a squadron of AAT and Corporate Alliance tanks. Battle droids swarmed over clone defences, blazing away with blasters, while fighters and cruisers warred overhead, lighting the grim sky with flashes of cyan, green and crimson.

Missiles screamed through the air, fired by both sides. Clones and droids were wiped out, only to be replaced by thousands more streaming from the reserve ranks. Mayhem engulfed the battle.

Through one chaotic storm of a conflict in a bleak ravine, Jedi Knight Aayla Secura sped towards the enemy droids. Behind her the clones were opening fire, and she relied on the Force to avoid the lasers skimming past her. In front of her, the mechanized CIS forces unleashed their wrath, and she was hard pressed to avoid them too.

Soon she was within one hundred meters of the droids, and she leapt through the heavy air, flipping forward once to avoid a barrage of shots. She landed in the midst of the robots and was slashing before she even hit the floor, weaving her saber in elegant arcs and slicing up the enemy in showers of sparks and shards of metal.

With a Jedi in amongst their ranks, the closest droids had little choice but to open fire on her. She took advantage of their fire, deflecting it back at them and dodging nimbly so they only ended up hitting each other. Her body was tired and aching but the Force gave her energy and speed.

The clones bombarded droids around her, shattering them and reducing them to scraps with heavy artillery. ARC troopers leapt down from a Republic Gunship swooping overhead, firing with unusual weapons as they zipped down support cords.

The next hour was a blur of fire, explosions, screams, gunfire and the crash of metal. At last the remaining droids limped away from the canyon, tanks belching smoke, pursued by Republic vehicles. Commander Bly approached Aayla Secura as she bisected a droideka that's shield had lost its energy.

"General Secura, we have destroyed this force. What are your orders?"

Aayla breathed hard, sweat on her brow, "Head east and engage the army there. They're positioned to ambush Master Windu's forces. We must stop them".

The battle was horrific for Aayla. She was most at home in the Jedi Temple, meditating and being at one with the Force, not slashing down machine monstrosities. There was no excitement in it for her as some Jedi had told her they experienced: it was just brutal, sickening violence.

However, she had a duty to protect the innocent of the galaxy, and as long as she did, she was not going to back down from combating the Separatists until her body was physically incapable of fighting anymore, no matter what stare her war-weary mind was in.

As Aayla surveyed the battlefield, Commander Bly was talking into a commlink. He stopped suddenly and looked at the Jedi.

"General, that was the Command Center. You've been summoned there".

General Grievous stalked about the War Room, making the various staff edgy. The four brutal MagnaGuards stood by the entrance to the dark room, lit by the flickering lights of control panels and holo-maps of battlefields.

The General loped over to a console and typed in a command. A holo-map of the entire battle appeared. Grievous stared at it intently, at the waving formations and battalions clashing over the plains. There was no expression is his stare, but the Neimodians at the consoles edged away nervously.

"We're losing this conflict", he rasped finally.

"Yes, General", one muttered.

"There are too many", Grievous said, apparently to himself, "We hardly outnumber them at all. They're too well prepared, and not even my leadership can pull off a victory here".

There was silence in the room. None of the Neimodians dared breathe. The MagnaGuards stared directly ahead. Grievous hunched over and did not speak. After a while, he convulsed and coughed violently, his exhales sounding like gunfire in the small room high above the battle.

Grievous mused over the map. Scans had confirmed that most of the clones were of the 2nd Legion. Separatist Intelligence proved that the 2nd Legion was commanded by legendary Jedi Council Senior Master Mace Windu. A mighty adversary indeed, perhaps the mightiest Grievous would ever encounter.

If Grievous could have smiled, he would have. While the planet might be lost, there was still an excellent chance for a symbolic victory. The death of Mace Windu would be a huge blow to Republic morale, to the Jedi in particular. He was probably the most revered hero in active service, although the two upstarts Kenobi and Skywalker were fast challenging him. But at any rate, at a personal level, that famous amethyst lightsaber would make a splendid addition to Grievous' collection.

Count Dooku would probably advise against such action. Grievous was aware Dooku had little faith in Grievous' ability to tackle what he called "real Jedi": the Windus, the Kenobis and the Koons of this world.

Indeed, Grievous' pride had taken a harsh blow already today. That wretched female Twi'lek Jedi had surprised him and left him rolling in the dust like a fool. If Dooku had seen that, he'd reprimand the General and demand he return to commanding armies rather than leading them.

Absent-mindedly, Grievous began a search on the Separatist Military Database for the Jedi he had met earlier. He found her almost instantly, to his surprise. He scanned the records casually. She was only a Jedi Knight, yet she had been promoted to a General. Interesting. She had what the Jedi would call an excellent military career, although to Grievous it looked patchy: too indecisive, many lost opportunities. Jedi General Aayla Secura.

He planned to have her saber by the end of the day.


	6. Attacked

Aayla leapt off the Republic Gunship and onto the Star Cruiser that hovered a mile above the battle on the surface below. Mace Windu was already there, his solemn face focused on the holo-map before him. He looked up and nodded at Aayla in acknowledgment.

Crowds of Republic soldiers, some clones, some not, were crowded around. Three Jedi Knights were there too, unfamiliar to Aayla Secura: one was a female Rodian who introduced herself as Derturo, one was a male Bith called Jular and the other was a male human who introduced himself as Gwangi Hok.

"We have important news, Master Secura. You're just in time", Windu said, before turning to address everyone, "We have a confirmed sighting of General Grievous' personal guards here, at this plateau three miles west of our 67th Division".

"How recent is this update?" Jular asked instantly.

"Literally three minutes ago", Windu replied, "I actually summoned you here to inform you of a plan to comb the surface for Grievous, but then this report came through".

"What actually has been seen?" the Bith asked thoughtfully.

"This", Mace Windu punched in a few buttons and a new image came up.

Aayla peered at it and saw a wind-swept plateau choked in smog and smoke. However, four figures could clearly be seen: the ghoulish MagnaGuards, standing arrogantly over the battlefield, weapons in hand.

"Where the MagnaGuards are, Grievous will be", Clone Commander Cal intoned, "All our records show that the MagnaGuards do not act independently of Grievous".

Windu nodded and returned the holo-image back to the map of the battlefield, "We're winning this battle, gradually. The reinforcements for the droids are less and less as time goes on. We must be depleting them. Grievous has probably assumed this position to give him the best vantage point over the entire army and organize his retreat".

"An act of desperation", Derturo smiled.

"Most likely", Windu clipped his saber from his best and held it in his hands, "However, we are also sustaining heavy damage from a cannon deployment here", he gestured to a point on the map, "Just an array of energy beam weapons, the usual array. I will assign you four Jedi Knights to take care of this. I will take the ARC troopers and engage Grievous and his MagnaGuards".

Aayla started, "Master Windu, are you sure you and the troops alone will be enough for Grievous and his elite?"

"I will be. I am a Master. Grievous has not fought a Jedi of my calibre before. He will not escape this time", Mace declared.

It was a statement, a truth, not a boast. But Aayla couldn't help feeling a sting to the comment, as if she were inadequate. However, she masked her deepest feelings and regained her composure.

"Are we all clear on our objectives?" Mace asked, and when the replies were nods and salutes, he stood up, "Alright. Disperse!"

Grievous hunkered over in the biting wind and dust flung at him. He tucked his armoured head into his torso and waited, fingers twitching restlessly as his cape flailed about him.

His mission was going to be enjoyable. His opposition was strong. Strong opponents always died in the best fashion. That look of shock on their face when a blade suddenly pierced their heart in the whirlwind of combat: the kind of look of shock that only sudden death could cause, it was all too familiar to Grievous.

In comparison to fighting Jedi, fighting clones was positively dull. No shock or horror as they died, merely anatomical responses that were completely devoid of personality. Usually just a waste of effort.

Sometimes it could be entertaining. He had truly blazed through entire squads of clones before, chopping them up by the dozen with his windmill like attacks. But that was simply the satisfaction of knowing he was so good: it wore off quickly. Grievous wanted confirmation that he was good from the horror of dying opponents: the more revered the opponent the better. He had loved duelling Ki-Adi-Mundi and Shaak Ti before, draining away that false Jedi confidence with each pounding blow of his swords. The end result had been so disappointing.

Those Republic ARC troopers were troublesome creatures. Bred, conditioned and trained to be the best of the best. Grievous had known their trainer and original host body: Jango Fett.

Grievous had been about as close to Jango Fett as he had been to anyone in his new life. Of course, it was not truly "close". All it involved was an intense mutual respect and a vague sense of comradeship. Jango was impressed by Grievous' tactical mind, formidability and his skills. Grievous, for his part, was shocked by the level of combat skill a non-Force sensitive with no alterations to a mere human body displayed, and he was also immensely interested in the Mandolorian history and culture. For what it was worth, Grievous and Jango had stuck by each other, finding each other somewhat less despicable than the Separatist leaders and more grounded than the two Sith Lords.

But that was all over now, and Grievous was aware of Jango's untimely death. It occurred to him that one of the Jedi he planned to kill today was the killer of Jango. Killing him would be Grievous' last way of acknowledging the bounty hunter's worth.

Mace Windu waited patiently as the Republic Gunship sped for the last known location of Grievous' guards. Around him a squadron of fifteen ARC troopers readied their weapons. Power packs were clicked into place, reloaded blasters were snapped shut, quad-firing cannons were strapped over backs and repeating laser cannons were primed in advance.

Such weaponry had put Grievous to flight before. It would work again now.

Mace was confident he could probably handle the situation alone anyway. Whatever skills Dooku had passed down to them, Grievous and his guards had no perception of the Force. They felt nothing, everything was programmed and rehearsed.

It didn't matter that he would have been outnumbered five to one anyway: when your opponents have vastly inferior skills and many weaknesses, it doesn't really matter how many of them there are. It becomes irrelevant. Like deflecting blasters from training seeker droids.

The plateau loomed large up ahead. The Gunship circled low, looking for any sign of Grievous. It wasn't likely he'd show himself with a heavily armed starship above, so Windu ordered the ARCs to descend. He leapt out from the ship as they sped down zip cords after him.

Grievous probably wanted to engage Windu and the clones at such close range that the Gunship would be unable to fire. That was fine by Mace. He flicked his lightsaber into his hand and ignited its shimmering blade.

Soon enough, four dark figures emerged from behind a large rock. MagnaGuards. They stepped forward, looking surprisingly intimidating with their red eyes shining in the gritty mist of Cosko.

The ARCs raised their guns and opened fire. The droids leapt through the air, spinning with elegance and skill, twirling their electrostaffs to deflect the smaller blaster bolts and dodging the larger ones. They landed in the midst of the ARCs.

If they were normal clones and not ARCs, the MagnaGuards would have triumphed over them almost instantly, striking clones down with lightning jabs of their weapons. However, the ARCs leapt back out of range, firing as they did so, keeping the MagnaGuards on the move.

Mace rushed forward to engage one MagnaGuard that had broken off from the others. His blade slammed down on the robot's weapon, driving the droid back. As he attacked, Mace kept his senses alert for Grievous and what would probably be an inevitable surprise attack by the General himself.

The Jedi Master was taken aback, surprised even when the MagnaGuard planted its weapon in the ground and used it to vault into the air and kick the Jedi in the chest. Mace fell back, brows furrowed in confusion and irritation. When had these droids learned to move so quickly?

Mace decided to try a little experiment. He attacked from above, swiping with his blade down directly at the droid's grotesque head. The droid raised its staff to block, but as it did Mace changed the angle of the attack and slashed horizontally, slicing the droid's shoulder.

Pitiful. Not even quick enough to see the attack and react in time. He attacked again, repeating the manoeuvre in order to end the battle quickly.

This time, the MagnaGuard twirled its staff to intercept and lock the swiping saber, catching it before it could connect to the droid's shoulder.

Mace's eyes widened in surprise, but it was a mistake to do so as in the next split second he received a powerful kick to the jaw that sent him flying through the air and crashing to the floor.

The MagnaGuard spun its staff and held it in a defensive position, waiting for the Jedi to stand back up.

Mace was shocked. The droid had learned the manoeuvre and found a way to stop it in the blink of an eye, even calculating the exact angle of the attack. The Jedi realized these droids weren't programmed: they were trained. That made things rather more difficult.

The ARCs were beginning to suffer against the droids. Six clones lay dead in exchange for one arm ripped out of one droid's socket by a quad-laser cannon blast. The MagnaGuard fought on regardless.

Things were becoming difficult. Mace had underestimated the droids and, he realized, Grievous. No wonder these elite warriors had killed so many Jedi. They were literal killing machines, equipped with a warrior's mind.

Another MagnaGuard broke off from fighting the ARCs and rushed to take on Mace. The Jedi leapt to his feet and parried the attacks from the two droids. He was hard-pressed to do so, breaking into a sweat as the electrostaffs buzzed uncomfortably close. The staffs hummed and crackled as the droids whipped them at Mace, driving him back with expert skill.

The four Jedi Knights skilfully carved their way through dozens of security battle droids. Sabers flashed and scrawny droids dropped in shattered heaps. Already the battle was almost over.

Aayla took a chance and leapt away from the enemy robots and turned her attention to the cannons firing at the clone army below. The cannons were droids in their own right: the machine had to be destroyed to be taken out of action. This prevented Republic forces turning the machines back on the Separatists.

The Jedi had little choice, and Aayla began slicing open the control panels of the guns, decommissioning one with each swipe. When the last of the security battle droids were destroyed, the other Jedi joined, quickly taking down the artillery post.

"That was easy", Derutro smiled light-heartedly.

"Maybe a little too easy?" the Bith Jular mused, adopting a pensive stance.

"There's no need to be paranoid when we just got lucky for once", Derutro retorted.

Aayla shrugged her slim shoulders and exhaled deeply. She was tired, and sincerely hoped this day was coming to an end. As the Rodian and the Bith bickered over logistics versus luck, the human Gwangi turned to her.

"Are you alright, General Secura?" he asked, his tired face breaking into a smile.

She nodded, "Yes, thank you. It's just been a long day".

The human smiled again sympathetically and headed towards the edge of the rock cliff to look over the battlefield. As he did, a large figure rocketed over the brim of the cliff and landed beside him. It did not crouch or bend at the knees, it simply landed in a standing position. Its cloak billowed about it as it towered over the Jedi.

The four Knights flipped away and raised their lightsabers. General Grievous posed, crouching over in an unsettling position with his clawed hands splayed in front of his body.

"What the…" the Rodian Jedi murmured.

"Oh, you're probably wondering why I'm here", Grievous snorted arrogantly, "You see, your comrade Master Windu has simply fallen for my little ruse. I find it a little disappointing, to be honest. It was a blatant diversion".

Aayla stared. So the MagnaGuards had been positioned to draw Mace Windu away from the other Jedi so Grievous could engage them alone. And was Mace…was he in a trap too?

The two MagnaGuards closed in on Mace, flanking him. He was breathing heavily and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek from his mouth. The droids attacked again. Mace blocked, parried and dodged, but it was becoming difficult.

The ARCs on the other hand were beginning to overcome the guards. As one MagnaGuard leapt through the air, one rocket impacted on his chest, blowing the breast panel to pieces and exposing the circuitry. Nevertheless the droid continued to fight, killing the offending clone by impaling him on its staff.

Mace fought with all his determination and skill and finally succeeded in slicing the legs out from underneath one MagnaGuard. Left with only one opponent, he began driving the droid back even as the felled elite droid reached for its staff and began crawling towards Mace.

These droids were programmed to keep fighting to the last, Mace realized. Amputations, decapitations and bisection weren't enough to stop them immediately. Their ability to fight on even after seemingly fatal blows was probably what had killed so many Jedi in the past.

Although crippled, the droids were far from done. They closed in for the kill, seemingly unaware of their handicaps, focused entirely on killing their quarry.

The four Jedi positioned themselves to surround Grievous, angling their sabers to point towards him. He didn't move in response and simply waited for them to attack.

He didn't have to wait long. They rushed as one, aiming their blades to strike from different angles. The General suddenly leapt into the air and flipped backwards, escaping their circle. As he twisted through the air he snapped out two lightsabers from his cloak and ignited them. He hit the floor.

The cyborg grunted in surprise as he discovered Aayla Secura was waiting for him, striking at him and forcing him to parry. The other three Jedi caught up and attacked as well, driving him back in concert with well-aimed, steady strikes.

The duel couldn't go on like this. The Jedi had Grievous cornered and up close, preventing him from performing elaborate moves, but despite being caught on the back foot and outnumbered, the General managed to block all attacks.

While keeping his body still, Grievous shifted his weight to one leg and anchored the claws in the rock beneath him. He used his other leg to twist at an unnatural angle and reach into his cloak, seizing a saber in his talons. The green blade shimmered to life and the General swept with it. The blow would have cut the feet out from underneath all the Jedi if they didn't have the foresight to leap into the air, narrowly avoiding the flashing blade.

With more room to manoeuvre for a few seconds, the General did not waste time. He tossed the saber from his foot to his right hand and reached into his cape pockets to produce another lightsaber in his left hand. He activated them all, and as he did each of his crooked arms split into two skeletal limbs, each of his four hands grasping a blade.

The extra arms and swords took the Jedi by surprise. They had heard of this unusual feature before in intelligence reports, but it was far more frightening in person. Grievous coughed once in exertion, then lowered his head and charged.

His hands spun through 360 degrees at his wrists, twirling all four of the blades at such a speed that they appeared to be deadly flashing green and blue discs of light.

In seeming panic, the Rodian Derturo thrust her saber into the rotating blades. Instantly her lightsaber was wrenched from her hands by the force of the spinning lightsabers. She gasped in surprise once before she dropped to the floor, a black burning hole through her chest.

As her saber clattered to the floor, the cyborg caught it in his foot and back flipped. As he did he hurled the still-lit saber directly at Aayla with missile-like speed. The unexpected attack caught Aayla by surprise, but she managed to block it and deflect the sword away with a wide swipe of her weapon.

She stared in shock. Four Jedi had been reduced to three in a few seconds, and it had been very near to there being only two left. The General reared up to his maximum height, his crooked legs unfolding so he towered two meters tall.

"Come", he growled.


	7. Saber to saber

Author's note: Many thanks for the reviews. I'm very glad people are still reading this. Thanks for the feedback. And incidentally, I'm still not a fangirl and I'm still a guy. Hehe.

Chaos reigned on the rocky gun position. What was supposed to be a simple battlefield objective had turned into a dreadful fight for survival for the Jedi, with one comrade slain already.

But the three Jedi showed no fear, driving home their attacks and attempting to bring General Grievous to bay. All three were confident in their swordsmanship and in the judgement of the Force. However, none were confident they would leave the conflict alive.

Grievous' style had altered. Whereas before he had been whirling his blades in windmill-like attacks and utilizing his agility, now he was still, his hooked feet digging into the floor and anchoring him to the spot. His body was perfectly motionless like a great tree trunk, and he gazed ahead at seemingly nothing. However, his arms were moving at great speed, striking and parrying expertly, blocking the attacks with a minimum of effort. His robotic dexterity ensured that he was able to move his blades all 360 degrees around him in a complete circle with no weak spots. Whether the Jedi engaged him from behind or from the front, the result was the same: he intercepted their attacks and responded with another.

To an average onlooker, it would appear Grievous had encased himself in a flashing sphere of green and blue light. The Jedi wasted their energy attacking the vortex of throbbing lightsaber energy that Grievous had become. In the next second he leapt twenty feet into the air from a standstill and came down striking, forcing them back with another style of attack.

Now the cyborg twisted and turned with amazing speed. He flipped backwards and forwards, ducked under attacks, switched lightsabers from hands to feet for opportune strikes, hurled sabers into the air and caught them with ease to perform an attack from directly above the enemy and balanced on one hand or foot to pivot about at an astonishing speed. The frenzied moves had the Jedi leaping away from him, but he followed, splitting rocks in two and severing fragments of cannon into clouds of debris wherever he went.

The Bith Jular stumbled and fell back. Grievous pounced on him like a predator and pierced his chest with twin thrusts off his sabers. The shocked Bith had time enough to gasp before sagging to the floor in a heap.

Only Aayla and the human male Gwangi were left. They lifted their sabers as their grim fate occurred to each of them. The General took a few menacing steps forward and then charged.

The two Jedi were fine servants of the Force and were not short of battle experience. However, with only two of them left against the dreaded "Knight Bane", it was only a matter of time. With only two blades to catch his strikes rather than four now, the confrontation was brutal and brief.

Aayla had a clear view of what happened to Gwangi. One of Grievous' blades sheared through his right hand, his lightsaber dropping to the floor. The human yelled in pain. Grievous' clawed foot seized him by the chest and as the General back flipped away, he hurled the Jedi away. Gwangi crashed into the sheer rocky cliff behind Grievous. He went sickeningly limp as he fell, buffeting and bouncing off the cragged precipice, slipping away into the huge fall below.

As she stopped to look in horror at Gwangi's death, Aayla was unprepared for Grievous' attack. The next few seconds were blurry and unclear. One moment the General was standing several meters away, the next he was looming over her, crouching down to stare her in the face with his bleak eyes. White light seemed to flare in front of Aayla's field of vision as burning pain screamed through her weary body. The smell of burning flesh and smoke overcame her senses and she slumped headfirst to the floor.

She lay in the dust, breathing heavily and sweat stinging her eyes as excruciating pain wracked through her in waves of intensity. Gradually, she realized Grievous had stabbed her in the right arm, just above the elbow, and once in her right thigh judging from the source of the pain. She was unable to move her right arm or to stand up. She had dropped her lightsaber: when her vision returned and focused she could see the deactivated hilt in the dirt before her.

Six claws enclosed around the handle: the skeletal hand of Grievous. His harsh voice rasped near to her face.

"Well, this was a little disappointing, if I'm honest. I was expecting better from the Jedi who managed to elude me before. Still, a person can be only so lucky, I guess. Don't worry, I'll honour you and your friends. Your weapons shall find new life in my hands…"

He stopped mid-sentence and gave a hoarse, barking cry. Aayla peered up from the floor and saw the cyborg stagger away, his head turned away as if he had just been struck. Another figure crashed down in front of Aayla.

Grievous stumbled away from the attack and struggled to regain himself. However much of his body was invincible robotics, impacts still had some damaging effect on his tender innards. He coughed and wheezed intensely as he glared out from his dour mask at his new foe.

Mace Windu. The Jedi had aimed a kick at the cyborg's head, knowing the loud throbbing of a lightsaber strike would alert the General in term. The blow stung, and his pride stung the most. Mace landed in a crouch before the female twi'lek Jedi, staring back at Grievous, undaunted and daring him to retaliate.

Grievous was a little confused. Where had the Jedi come from? He heard no gunships overheard: nor were there any higher up, not with these gun positions only recently destroyed. The rocky precipice they stood on was too smooth and steep to scale from the direction the Jedi had approached. That left only one conclusion. The Jedi had leapt up here from the floor below. Over three hundred meters in one leap, during which he was able to pivot in mid-air and aim a kick at the alert cyborg.

Grievous' eyes narrowed. The rumours were true about this one: he was strong indeed. As strong as Dooku had told him, he seemed. Judging by the unfaltering confidence from the human, at least. It was not the resigned fate, the bravery in the face of certain death that the four Jedi he had just dispatched had showed. It was the utter confidence of a man who believed he could overcome any obstacle the enemy could throw at him.

That infamous amethyst blade sprang to life from his hand, lighting the precipice in purple light. He didn't act like other Jedi. Most Jedi ignited their blades only when they had already established there was no other alternative: all Mace Windu had done was leap from the sky, kick the General in the face and then draw his lightsaber. Here, Mace was the aggressor.

His stern face was as close to angry as Grievous had ever seen a Jedi. His dark eyes were locked onto the General's: not faltering, keeping an even stare with him. Eventually, it was Grievous who had to look away. His eyes darted over the rest of the Jedi.

A torn tunic and a somewhat charred left sleeve and forearm. The MagnaGuards had not gone done without a fight, then.

"So, you managed to destroy my elite, I assume?" Grievous asked almost politely.

The Jedi didn't answer. That was unusual. Most Jedi talked back, determined not to be cowed by threats or mockery. Those who didn't were usually inexperienced rookies who were too afraid to speak: all that was left for them to do was to grip their lightsabers tight and wait for the end.

With this one, Grievous suspected that wasn't the case. This was a Jedi who didn't think Grievous' mind games were worth acknowledging. That deep, penetrating stare and the atmosphere of supreme confidence: it was no mystery to Grievous why so many were easily manipulated by the Jedi with simple suggestion.

But Grievous was curious and wanted to know what had happened, "So, tell me, how did you escape then? ARC trooper assistance?"

This time, Windu nodded, "You put too much faith in your guards, Grievous. There were no match for us".

"Forgive me if I sound arrogant, but no-one knows the abilities and limits of those droids more than I. They have fulfilled their purpose. Your little escort of Knights is defeated, and you have been lured to me".

Mace didn't answer. Grievous could feel his confidence returning. It was good to belittle a Jedi in such a fashion. He truly relished putting them in their place. It was nearly as satisfying as simply killing them.

He continued, "I was in the act of giving that female an honourable death before you interrupted. Perhaps you might allow me to finish her off so she doesn't have to lie there while me and you…"

Mace Windu charged. The distance between Grievous and the Jedi disappeared. A web of purple light reached out for Grievous, aiming to slice him into one hundred pieces before he even hit the ground.

Grievous bellowed in surprise and leapt away. Two strikes singed his metal body: he wasn't quite quick enough. Angrily, Grievous snapped out two lightsabers and ignited them, but before he had even landed Mace was on him, swinging a blow at the cyborg's durasteel skull. Grievous' two blades managed to block it as the combatants landed again.

While Mace's blade was locked with his, Grievous detached his extra arms and whipped out two extra lightsabers. There was no point playing around with this enemy: he was serious. Grievous lunged forward and stabbed with his two newly activated blades, aiming to catch Mace in a pincer, but the Jedi leapt into the air and kicked again expertly. The blow caught Grievous on the chin while he was in mid-leap and sent him tumbling backwards, crashing into a rock pillar.

By the time he was up on his feet, Mace was all over him again. His blade weaved shafts of light about them, hemming the General into a corner with veteran sword-master strokes.

As Grievous hacked and coughed and parried desparatley, he realized it was not for no reason that Mace Windu was a revered Jedi Council Senior Master. Grievous had never fought such an opponent except for Dooku.

But even when him and Dooku had duelled and Dooku had calmly and smarmily declared, 'I'm not going to hold back any more', Grievous had been able to keep up with him. In fact, he was privately convinced on a few occasions he had been about to best Dooku before the Count suddenly announced the duel over and had given the General a rather curt congratulation.

Here however, Grievous felt like he was drowning in a rough sea. Every time he managed to get a little breathing space he was overwhelmed by another wave of assault, hammering him down and keeping him struggling powerlessly in the fearsome grip.

Grievous' back was to the wall, and his chronic coughing was picking up too as he was worn down. The duel couldn't carry on like this. At this rate, the General would be spare parts within thirty seconds.

There had to be some quirk to the way Windu was attacking that kept the General subdued like this. Grievous' computer brains and his organic brain went to work trying to decipher what exactly was going on. The computer chips analysed the attacks while his own sharp mind did the hard work of trying to see what style and method there was to it.

He had to hurry. One strike plunged dangerously close to his head: he was unable to parry in time and instead he shifted his head to the right to dodge it. Mace would have swept his blade through Grievous' neck in a horizontal arc if Grievous hadn't fired his pistons operating his arms at top speed to be able to parry the blow.

Grievous untangled himself from Mace and sped away, hotly pursued by the Jedi Master. At the last second however, Grievous whirled about and faced Windu: his strategy was complete.


	8. Final duel

Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews! While I don't just write for reviews, it really is rewarding to know people are enjoying your writing. Even if one of them is Matt Jones (a.k.a. The Puppet Killer).

Anyway, one nice comment I've been receiving a lot lately is on my action scenes. I'm glad to know they don't go unnoticed. Most action scenes you read in books these days either don't really go into detail on action, as they tend to think they're above that sort of thing, or they describe it really badly. So I'm glad that people think that I can write action semi-competently.

A note here on Star Wars itself: in this chapter I'm forced to use a word I hate: Vaapad. When Attack of the Clones came out they invented all these neat little different styles of lightsaber combat called Forms I – VII. Now however, they're rarely called this, instead they've been given lame names like "Vaapad", "Soseru" and "Ataru", and the different styles of lightsaber strikes themselves have crappy names like "sun cho" and "ya maoi" or whatever. Since much of the Jedi culture is already somewhat inspired by oriental religious disciplines, I think it was a terribly bad idea to give lightsaber styles very oriental-like names as it removes any chance of you remembering you're in a Galaxy a long time ago and very far away. I mean, they might as well start calling Yoda "sensei". Totally kills the originality.

But I'm going to use the hated name "Vaapad" here because it's become such a big part of Mace Windu and his fandom. I don't actually like Mace Windu, in fact I detest him as an example of how lame the majority of the Jedi are portrayed to be in the prequels (don't know if that's apparent in my writing or not?) but I have to represent him accurately.

Anyway, here we go:

* * *

Aayla watched as Mace decimated Grievous' defences. She had fought alongside Mace before, during the desperate battle on Geonosis, and she had witnessed him in various training exercises and demonstrations in the Jedi Temple. He had always impressed her with his dominating focus and his control.

Here, however, his actions were impossible to keep up with. He was a whirling tempest of shearing purple light, eclipsing even the flashes of Grievous' blades that seemed somewhat feeble now compared to the sword strokes of the Jedi Master. The cyborg was stumbling along: sometimes when he went to parry the Jedi's blade was no longer even there and Mace took the opportunity to strike closer to home, driving him back.

Grievous ran a few steps with Mace directly behind him. Hope was high in Aayla's heart. The monster, the Jedi killer, the murderer of thousands of innocents, was on the back foot at last.

However, suddenly Grievous spun about and face Windu. He reared up to his maximum height and his eyes gleamed. The motors in his arms whirred loudly as he adopted a new fighting stance.

Mace watched in amazement as Grievous altered his stance to match his. The cyborg's arms were swept back in a ready stance for cutting sweeps forward and above the head. His legs were close together with both feet planted firmly on the ground, so he relied on his own reflexes and footwork for manoeuvring rather than simply high-speed speed. The General's head was level and still, and his eyes blazed out from under his mask.

Mace's Windu's own personal fighting technique. Form VII, or Vaapad, the lightsaber duelling form that cut dangerously close to the Dark Side in its practice and relied on the willpower of the user to prevent him from sliding into evil.

Grievous, of course, was under no such obligation.

However, Grievous' stance might have looked like Form VII, but Mace knew it wasn't truly Vaapad. The deadly fighting style took decades to master, in fact Mace was the first and only Jedi to use it effectively. All Grievous was doing was copying the actual movements of Vaapad: there was no channelling of energies from within for Grievous. However, that didn't distract from the fact that Grievous could now answer Mace's attacks with some degree of knowledge, something Mace had never had to deal with before.

The Jedi was not interested in prolonging this conflict. He lunged forward and swung low with blade before bringing it up in a deadly killing arc. Grievous responded by blocking with only one blade and stabbing and slicing from three different directions and with three different velocities and intensities with his other arms.

Mace leapt aside just in time, although Grievous shredded his cloak as he did so. Angrily, Windu discarded it and leapt back to engage his foe, who responded near-perfectly blow for blow.

Form VII's actual duelling technique involved overhead swings to bring blades down at unpredictable angles, or sweeping from a different direction at the last millisecond. There were no elegant twirls or unnecessary attacks at all: it relied on wasting as little energy as possible to keep stamina up.

Mace knew that unlike him, Grievous did not have to worry about his stamina: his mechanical body could not tire. Also, with four arms, the blows were coming thick and fast, draining Mace's precious stamina by forcing him to parry or to leap aside.

A slight chuckle came from the ghastly figure of Grievous. He was becoming more and more confident with each second the duel progressed.

But he was mistaken. If he thought all there was to Mace's power was a simple type of body stance and attack pattern that could be analysed by miniature computers and crudely copied, he was desperately wrong.

* * *

Grievous continued to duel Mace to a standstill. He was beginning to enjoy himself. It appeared that while Dooku's prediction about Mace's power was accurate, Dooku himself had completely underestimated Grievous' prowess. And so had the doomed Jedi.

He attacked relentlessly: it was almost easy for him now. Slashes and hacks and swipes that kept the enemy at bay. The little female twi'lek Jedi cowered in a corner as her senior was forced back another step.

But as Grievous advanced on Mace, he suddenly noticed something was wrong. The Jedi had disappeared.

"Uh?" the General grunted in bewilderment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something moving. Moving fast.

Mace reappeared to his left in a split second, thrusting his laser sword at blinding speed at Grievous' metallic body. Only a frantic spin of a saber managed to block the blow. Furiously Grievous spun to face Mace, only to discover he had disappeared again.

Another blur of movement, this time to the right. Grievous whirled about and blindly blocked a deadly strike. Counter-attacks hit nothing: the Jedi had disappeared again.

Panicked, Grievous glanced all sides around him. There was no sign of the enemy. Some instinct left in his organic brain screamed at him look above him.

Mace descended from the sky like some devilish bird of prey. His leap had carried him thirty meters above Grievous and now he rocketed down towards him at a speed the cyborg had never witnessed before.

There was no time to parry now. Grievous ducked and rolled away, holding his sabers out as he did so as to avoid impaling himself. But even as he did, Mace struck. His amethyst lightsaber sliced through metal armour and electronics. Sparks flew.

Grievous crawled to his feet, snarling in pain and rage. Mace's strike had cut off a significant portion of his right shoulder. The circuits exploding inside him and the cut wiring caused shocks throughout Grievous' duranium shell, rattling his internal organs and actually wearying him, something he had not experienced since his rehabilitation into his new body. The cyborg hacked and coughed manically.

Mace was breathing heavily too. His attacks had not been him disappearing and appearing again at all: he had simply been moving at such high speed that Grievous' eyes, that were accustomed to seeing things move at a much slower pace, could not keep up with him.

However, the attacks drained Mace's stamina greatly. He could not keep up this speed for long, not as long for example as the one who had taught it to him, Master Yoda. But hopefully, it was not something he was going to need to keep up for much longer.

Aayla watched in amazement. She had never seen such speed in a living being before, although she had heard some of the truly veteran Jedi Masters such as Yoda, Mace, Plo Koon, the defected Dooku and long-deceased Qui-Gon Jinn had such powers.

But she could see the exhaustion on Mace's face, the sweat trickling down his forehead. That was also something she'd never seen before, not even in Geonosis. She was also aware that Mace's strike had missed: the blow that had severed Grievous' shoulder was supposed to be the final strike that ended it all. Desperately she tried to stand up, to join the fight and help in some way, but the pain of the lightsaber burn screamed from her leg and up the rest of her body, freezing her to the spot and causing her to clench her teeth to avoid screaming out.

Grievous snorted like an enraged bull reek. The spatter of sparks from his right shoulder cast his face in a pale angry light. He was not about to give up. Before Mace could recover from exerting himself, Grievous charged, stamping across the rocky plateau at top speed, adjusting his stance to match that of Form VII.

Sabers clashed again. Grievous pounded at Mace ruthlessly, driving him back, but Mace picked up speed again and rushed Grievous from all angles. This time, however, Grievous was prepared. The droid General remained in one place but used his Vaapad-like footwork to turn to face Mace each time, parrying the attacks as best as he could. One strike broke through his defence and came dangerously close to slicing through his head: Grievous ducked to avoid instant death. The smell of charred metal poured from a smouldering gash on the crown of Grievous' skull-like mask.

Grievous struck out wildly in rage, forcing Mace to leap away. Grievous followed and attacked, and the two duelled again, the cyborg hammering away with his heavy arms while maintaining high speed foot-work to keep up with the lightning strikes of Mace Windu.

Neither of them was going to give now. The battle raged on in flashes and sparks. The purple blade whipped back and forth in subtle swipes to block and stall the sheets of crackling green and blue light that were Grievous' blades.

With her blurring eyes, Aayla could barely see what was going on anymore. Sparks flew and blades throbbed with bursts of energy as the two opponents gave the battle everything they had.

Aayla watched. Mace wasn't winning anymore. He wasn't losing, but he wasn't winning either.

The end came quickly and abruptly. Grievous' dexterous foot shot out and seized Mace by the leg, the heavy black talons digging into his skin. The Jedi fell, hitting the floor with such force that his violet lightsaber fell from his grasp.

He called upon the Force to summon the saber back to his hand, but Grievous stomped down, trapping the Jedi's hand underneath the massive duranium claws.

Mace extended his left hand to call on the lightsaber instead, but as it leapt through the air an ivory-coloured clawed hand seized it. Grievous deactivated two of his four blades and tucked them into his cloak along with his newest trophy.

In a spilt second, Mace had gone from the being in the heart of a furious duel to defenceless on the floor. Grievous towered over his flattened body as Windu struggled to pull free. However, Grievous was wheezing in exhaustion and coughing uncontrollably as he did so, and sparks fell in showers from his damaged robotic torso. The battle had taken a great toll on him too.

Nevertheless, he was the victor. He reared up proudly and leered at Mace Windu.

"With you dead, your army will crumble before my might, and Cosko will be mine".

Mace shifted and snarled up at his enemy spitefully, "You can have Cosko when you pry it from the grip of my cold, dead fingers".

"Your proposal is acceptable", Grievous stated, and raised his saber.

The plasma blade of a lightsaber sheared through flesh, tainting the air with acrid smoke.

* * *

Grievous' eyes widened in shock. He had struck out for Mace Windu, but the blow had never connected. In fact, both of his lightsabers had dropped from his fingers and Mace lay unharmed beneath him. But there had been the distinctive sizzling sound of a lightsaber plunging through flesh. What was going on?

It was then he a spasm of pain struck him, so intense that he nearly screamed in agony. He glanced down and saw a brilliant blue blade still impaled through his chest: it had thrust through both robotics and some of Grievous' last precious internal organs. The gracile hand of the twi'lek held the lightsaber that had pierced him.

He managed to look at her in disbelief as she stood before him, shaking all over and sweating but she managed to hold the lightsaber steady. She looked back at him, panting heavily but staring him down defiantly.

Another wave of pain tore through Grievous as circuits exploded and his gut sack began to leak clear green liquid. He doubled over and with a final snarl, he collapsed in the dust.

* * *

Author's note: I stole a line off a movie somewhere near the end. Just so you don't accuse me of plagiarism, for sure. And I'll be surprised if anyone can guess what it is. ;)

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you get the chance.


	9. Hollow Victory

Author's note: Okay, you win. It was indeed "Your proposal is acceptable" from The Men In Black. I don't know why I put that line in; I just can really imagine it in Grievous' voice.

Anyway, apologies for the slow update, been very busy. And also, sorry this chapter is short. But I will see this story through to the end this time. Thanks for all my reviews, much appreciated.

* * *

Aayla stared back at Grievous. The cyborg was impaled on her weapon, and he looked blankly at her, his mask looking both fearsome and mournful at the same time. After a second that seemed to stretch on for hours, electricity coursed through Grievous' duranium shell, overloading his circuitry in bursts of sparks. With a final throaty roar Grievous collapsed, sliding off Aayla's lightsaber and slumping to the floor.

Exhaustion and pain washed over the Jedi as well, and the smoking battlefield and barren rocks began to swim before her eyes as she swooned, falling over in the dust.

* * *

Aayla had no concept of how much time had passed when she awoke. Instinctively she flexed, but a spasm of pain crashed through her body, forcing her to stifle a scream. Slowly, painfully she opened her eyes and saw she was lying flat on her back in what looked like a medical bay bed. Her worn and ragged clothes smelled of bitter smoke.

Her vision focused and she could see white-armoured clones marching back and forth outside the room. Something loomed up next to her, and she risked tilting her head to get a better look. She eventually discerned Mace Windu standing over her, looking more dishevelled, haunted and tired than Aayla had ever seen him, even after the horrific struggle of Geonosis.

"Are you alright, Master Secura?" he asked somewhat tenderly, surprising her.

"Yes", she managed to croak lamely.

"Good. The battle is won. The Separatist army has fled Cosko, or at least what's left of them".

She sighed in relief and slumped back on the bed, "And where are we? How long have I been out?"

"We're back on the Dominator. You were unconscious for about four hours", Mace said slowly, somewhat sympathetically and answering her questions patiently, "Commander Bly picked us up and transported you here right away. You're still being treated for your injuries, but they're only minor and you should be on your feet again in a few hours".

Aayla noticed the dried blood on Mace's tunic, where Grievous have stamped his clawed foot on him in their duel, "Are you injured, Master Windu?"

He shook his head, "Just a little. Which is more than can be said for Masters Derturo, Jular and Hok, not to mention far too many clones. But we should be grateful. If it weren't for your actions Aayla, the Separatists would probably have won the planet and the sacrifices would be for nothing".

Aayla smiled weakly, "Thank you, Master Windu", she began to sit upright, "Where is the cruiser heading now…"

Something caught in her eye and she stopped in mid-sentence. The breath was knocked out of her chest and she nearly screamed in horror, as the memories of the day came flooding back to her.

"What is he doing here!" Aayla almost sobbed, pointing in desperate terror to the form of General Grievous.

Mace Windu looked at the cyborg. The bio-droid General was suspended in a vat of green bacta fluid, hanging in the life-giving liquid suspended from wires like a crucified demon. The fierce eyes were closed and he was motionless.

"What's wrong, Aayla?" he asked.

"What is he doing on this ship?" Aayla cried hysterically, "He's…he's evil! He killed Gwangi Hok and Jular and Deruro!"

Mace looked at her, slightly baffled, "We couldn't just leave him there, Aayla. He would be dead in minutes if we just left him lying there with that wound".

Everything flashed before her eyes again in a blur. Grievous towering over the helpless Windu: raising his saber for the kill. Aayla had leapt to her feet, ignoring the screaming pain in her body and lunging for the distracted murderer, stabbing him through the chest with her last ounce of strength. She remembered the look of pained shock in the villain's eyes as he stared at her before they both slipped away into unconsciousness.

Aayla sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, sticky sweat clinging to her cold body. Mace looked at her, concerned. He reached out and placed one hand on her shoulder.

"Aayla, do you need the medic? Are you alright?"

She looked at him with haunted eyes. After a few pained seconds she shook her head slowly.

"No…no thank you Master Windu. Please tell me where we are heading now".

Mace nodded, "We're heading back to Coruscant. Our work here is done: I'm ordering Republic workers here to help the people of Cosko recover, as well as ten thousand clones to deal with the remaining criminal activity. You'll be returned to the Jedi Temple in a few hours for recuperation. You've suffered more than enough, Aayla. You'll be on leave for a while".

"And what of Grievous?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Grievous? Well..." Mace paused and looked away, "I don't know if he's going to survive the hyperspace journey back to Coruscant. We have expert medics on board, but there knowledge of cyborgs and Kaleesh is somewhat limited. But I'll contact the Jedi Council and consult them on what to do with Grievous if he does survive. My best guess is that he'll be imprisoned on Coruscant".

Aayla nodded her head slowly, as if it was painfully heavy, "I see. Thank you, Master Windu. I'll be alright".

He rose to his feet and placed one hand on her shoulder gently before walking away, already barking orders to various clone troopers trotting around outside.

Aayla looked at Grievous. Grievous didn't respond. Green bubbles frothed around his lifeless form and around the deep scorched hole in his torso. The fearsome warlord was truly helpless, stripped of his white cape and the sabers it contained. Looking to her right, Aayla saw her own lightsaber and robes hanging from a hook. The clones had evidently retrieved them.

It was little mystery to the Jedi as to why she had reacted in such horror to the sight of Grievous again. Her feelings towards him were hardly Jedi-like. The very sight of him conjured up a rush of anger and fear. The casual, deliberately mocking way he had dispatched of her Jedi companions…

Dooku had truly insulted the Jedi with the creation of Grievous. He was everything the Jedi strove not to be. Harsh, sadistic, tyrannical, a warmonger and somewhat cowardly, at least when it came to his own safety. His very fighting style, a ruthless copy of the Jedi combat arts, was a mockery of their philosophies. His habit of collecting the blades of Jedi he had slain and using them against others. And to make matters worse, he was a servant of the Sith.

Aayla knew Grievous would survive the trip back to Coruscant. She had never encountered an enemy so difficult to kill. If he could survive Master Windu's sword techniques, he could survive this terrible injury. But what the future held for Grievous Aayla could not imagine.

* * *

Author's note: What, you didn't really think Grievous was dead did you? Hehehe. More soon hopefully. 


	10. The Sith Lord

Author's note: I know this chapter is here rather quick, but I kinda went a bit nuts on writing it. Exposition is my weakest point in writing, as you may have noticed in the last chapter and the opening chapters, so I'm somewhat keen to get it over with to be honest.

Thanks for any reviews, for sure.

* * *

"On your victory, congratulations we offer you, Master Windu", the Jedi Council Master Yoda was saying.

Mace Windu inclined his head to the shimmering blue hologram of the assembled and seated Jedi Council members, who were in the Council room back on Coruscant while he was still on the Dominator, "Much of the thanks should be directed to Knight Aayla Secura. If not for her actions, I would be dead and Grievous would be massacring our forces at this very moment".

"She deserves the highest commendation", Plo Koon observed.

Horned, bulky Saesee Tiin looked at him sidelong, "The Jedi do not offer rewards and trophies, Master Koon", he almost snapped.

Plo Koon shrugged, "No, but I'm sure the Senate will want to honour her if they hear news of her bravery".

"She deserves it", the tentacle-headed Nautolan Kit Fisto said with a gentle smile, "I have known Aayla for a long time and she never fails to impress me. How is she recovering, Master Windu?"

Mace ran his fingers over his chin thoughtfully, "Her injuries are superficial and will heal soon enough. However she seems to be a little disturbed by what she went through. I think she has seen enough military action for now".

Yoda squinted, "Suggesting temporarily removing her from active service, are you?"

"That can't be done!" Saesee Tiin looked alarmed, "She is a competent General. We need to press the advantage with as many forces and leaders as we can immediately".

"She will be of no use to anyone for some time", Mace Windu reasoned, "But this matter can wait for now".

"Yes", beautiful and elegant Shaak Ti intoned, "The matter of General Grievous is before us".

"Indeed", Mace nodded slowly, "If he regains consciousness it's likely that he'll be held prisoner. We Jedi do not imprison even the cruellest enemies. But I imagine the Senate will want justice done on him".

"Indeed", Kit said, "We should inform the Chancellor and the Senate immediately. After that, it's up to the courts to decide his fate".

The Jedi Council nodded in silent agreement.

"Thank you for listening to my report, Masters", Mace declared, "We should arrive back on Coruscant in two standard hours. Inform the Chancellor if necessary before then. End transmission".

The ghost-like translucent image of the Jedi Council flickered and faded away. Mace turned away and headed back to the bridge of the Dominator. Clone Commanders Cal and Bly were in conference with leading officers, still in their armour, when Mace approached.

"Any news on the clearing up of Cosko?" the Jedi asked.

Commander Cal saluted, "Yes sir. We've salvaged as much Separatist equipment as possible. The usual thing, sir. Droid factories, smashed battle droids, control facilities, droid tanks. But in the last five minutes our forces still on the planet contacted us and informed us of a new find that they'll be shipping to Coruscant as soon as possible".

"What is it?"

"You're going to like this, sir. It's Grievous' personal shuttle".

* * *

Aayla drifted in and out of uneasy sleep. She kept her back turned to the cyborg suspended in the bacta tank and did her best to tuck herself away from the cold of hyperspace travel.

The horror of the Clone Wars was beginning to catch up with her. Today alone she had seen three Jedi comrades, noble servants of the Force, butchered like animals by a manic droid commander. Countless troopers had been slain, troopers who had been ordered by an unknown commissioner to be bred for the specific purpose of being the Republic's cannon fodder.

The war was sick. Droid fought Jedi and clone. All of them were slowly being destroyed. Civilians were dying too, sometimes by simply getting in the way, on other occasions to simply demonstrate the ruthlessness of the Separatists. The Force was growing dark and the Jedi were fuelling that darkness by simply fighting to protect the Republic and the people they were sworn to defend.

What was happening to the galaxy?

Aayla stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like an hour. Cold tears ran down her face as the deaths of her comrades replayed themselves in her head over and over. The burning hole in Derturo's torso, the shocking impaling of Jular, and the sickening crunch of Gwangi's limp body crashing down the rocky cliff. It was all too much for Aayla.

She felt compelled to look at their killer. Forcing herself to face her fear, she raised her upper body out of bed and looked up. Grievous was there now, right in front of her, motionless and helpless. He could not return her gaze.

Aayla didn't know how the Sith had manipulated Grievous and in what ways they had transformed him into a cyborg. It was probably pretty horrific and tragic in its own right, but right now, Aayla wasn't feeling sympathetic. She looked into his skull mask intently.

Grievous opened his eyes.

His golden fiery eyes seemed to burst into existence against his pitted red skin and the bubbling green bacta. The narrow black pupils were narrow, failing to focus, staring directly ahead.

Aayla didn't move. Her body went numb with shock at the sight of those reptilian eyes again. For a moment the pupils were contracted, seeing nothing, then they dilated and Aayla knew the conqueror was awake.

* * *

The first thing he saw was those same brown eyes. Those same brown eyes that had been the last thing he saw before he lapsed into unconsciousness, overcome with pain and terror. Now he saw them again, gazing back at him as if no time had passed.

He tried to reach out and crush her, but his body didn't react. He didn't know where he was or what was going on, but revenge consumed him and he tried to sweep in for the kill again. Nothing happened. His invincible robotic body wasn't responding.

It was then he noticed the green veil over everything he saw, and the bubbles rising past his face. Bacta fluid. As his mind slowly returned to him, he realized he was in a vat of bacta, and judging from his lack of ability to even move, he was strapped down securely to stop struggling. All he could do was look left and right, or straight ahead. At the Jedi.

* * *

Aayla watched him. His eyes darted back and forth, taking in his surroundings, but his body couldn't move. He glared at her fiercely, his eyes narrowing in hatred.

A gurgling growl came from his vocoder, as if he was trying to speak but was unused to it after his spell of unconsciousness. He tried again.

"You…" he snarled, his already distorted voice warped even further by liquid he was immersed in.

She didn't reply.

Whatever he tried to say next was completely lost on her. He began roaring furiously, bacta frothing around his vocoder. The equipment holding him steady began to vibrate and shake violently, and for a moment Aayla was afraid he was going to burst out of the tank and lunge for her. However, the rigging was designed to keep him completely immobile, and no matter how much he struggled he was unable to even twitch a finger.

"Jedi scum!" Grievous howled, suddenly audible again, "Release me now!"

The clatter of boots on steel grew loud and Mace Windu ran into the room.

"Aayla! Are you alright?" he asked urgently, not noticing Grievous, "What's going on?"

"You bastard!" Grievous cursed at the sight of the Jedi.

Mace wheeled about to look at the prisoner, "What? You've already regained consciousness?"

"Apparently so, you gutless worm! Release me now or suffer the consequences!"

The Jedi Master stared at Grievous as if he couldn't quite understand the General's logic, then slowly shook his head.

"No, Grievous. This is the end of the war for you, and soon it will be the end for your Sith Masters as well".

* * *

In a cavernous meeting hall on the Invisible Hand, the mile-long star cruiser that served as the Separatist's flagship, Sith Lord Darth Tyranus addressed the leaders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

Except to them, he was not Darth Tyranus. They knew of his identity as a Sith Lord, but the name Tyranus had…connections with a certain detail involving the very foundation of the Clone Wars. Jango Fett would have been able to explain to them if he was still alive, but for now Tyranus was known only to them and the rest of the galaxy as Count Dooku.

The elegant man was elderly, but he looked anything but frail, standing over six feet tall with sharp, dignified features, an imposing brown cape draped over his shoulders and an intense stare. He spook in a smooth, deep voice of seductive power.

"For the moment, I am going to recommend that you all return to your individual home systems", Dooku was saying to the assembled Separatists, "Intelligence is investigating potential secure systems to fortify ourselves within in case of an emergency. But at the moment you are free to return home".

The various leaders nodded and sighed in relief. There had been some close calls for some of them, being pursued from system to system by the Republic Army. All of the major leaders were present: Wat Tambor of the Techno Union, San Hill of the Banking Clan, Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild, Poggle the Lesser the head of the Geonosian war machine, Passel Argente of the Corporate Alliance, and Nute Gunray the Viceroy of the Trade Federation and his aide Rune Haako.

"Any questions, ladies and gentlemen?" Dooku asked.

"Yes", Nute Gunray, dressed in his elaborate robes and triple-crested tiara, rose to his feet, "Why is General Grievous not here to meet with us as well? Does he think of himself as too important to waste time with the financers of his army?"

Dooku sighed internally. Gunray's animosity towards Grievous was no secret, and Grievous returned the hostility at least as intensely. It could be a little troublesome to deal with at times.

"The General is indisposed", Dooku said, spreading his hands in a placating manner, "He is currently securing the occupation of Cosko. He recently contacted me informing me that he was encountering resistance from the Republic. He will be done shortly, I am sure".

"Doubtless the losses will be high", Gunray snorted.

Rune Haako, being somewhat more rational than his superior, beckoned for Gunray to sit back down, "Viceroy, please. We should be content with Count Dooku's answer".

"I hardly think…" the Neimodian began, but was silenced by a warning look from Dooku.

"If you would care to leave, my dear friends", the Count continued, "I will contact the General shortly".

After a chattering and a pompous rustling of robes, the corporate-minded leaders left the meeting room. As soon as the door slid shut behind the last of them, Dooku headed for a hologram projector. He typed in a code and stepped onto the image transmitter, looking at a screen, waiting for Grievous' visage to appear.

"General, this is Count Dooku. Report on the situation on Cosko".

He waited. After a moment the image began to flicker and take shape.

"Ah, General. Is the battle over yet?"

The image of two clone troopers discerned itself. The pair of them were donning their helmets, staring directly into the transmitter.

Dooku started. Republic clone troopers? That could only mean…

He leapt off the image transmitter and hit the power button. The image of the clones faded instantly. Dooku stepped back, as taken aback as he had been in years. What had happened to Grievous? Killed, captured? Or at least his shuttle had been. But that shuttle was always Grievous' last means of escape. If things went awry in war, Grievous was rather quick to head for the shuttle and take off. All of the situations Dooku could imagine that would force Grievous to leave his shuttle to the Republic were bad.

This was a matter that required Lord Sidious' immediate attention.


	11. The ruse

Author's note: Yo, many thanks for the reviews again. I've had a few questions lately about romance in the story. Well, yeah, I can confirm there will be romance soon. I needed to get the action over and done with first – for a very good reason. You'll see why later. But yeah, romance will be included. Somewhat uncharacteristically for myself, as I'm not good at writing it and all of my previous attempts have been, in my eyes, a failure. But hey, you know they say a writer is always his own harshest critic.

Lots of you have probably already guessed the pairing here. But for those of you who haven't, I won't spoil it.

Also, a bit more exposition in this chapter. Sadly, a lot of it is canon Star Wars exposition – you know, explaining the Sith plot to take over, establishing Sidious is actually Palpatine, etc. Since I go into detail about my plots, I feel obligated to do so about these too; however, not too much detail otherwise I'll just bore the majority of my readers. Hopefully I've found a good balance here. I'm not sure what to make of the dialogue in this chapter: a lot of it is a bit boring I think.

At any rate, please review if you get the chance, much love for everyone who does.

* * *

Yoda, Ki-Adi-Mundi and Plo Koon were seated in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's crimson decorated office overlooking the crowded city of Coruscant. The elderly, white-haired Palpatine sat opposite them across his desk, his normally kindly-face furrowed in concentration.

"I find this somewhat overwhelming, Master Jedi", he said slowly.

"Your ears don't deceive you, Chancellor", Ki-Adi-Mundi declared, "General Grievous has been captured by the Republic, alive. Or at least for the moment".

"And this was the work of Master Windu on Cosko?"

Yoda looked up at the Chancellor with weary eyes, "Of a sort. Helped he was, by one of our Knights. Without her, perhaps lost Cosko would be, Master Windu too".

Palpatine smiled, "That's sensational. She deserves the Senate's most gracious thanks and recognition".

Plo Koon stirred, "I agree. But for now, I think she may wish to remain undisturbed while she recovers from the ordeal in the Temple".

"Of course, Master Jedi", the politician nodded, "But also, the Senate must be informed of this development immediately. The capture of Grievous is news that has the potential to hasten the end of this war"

Yoda shrugged slightly, "Of course, tell the Senate you must. But bring about the end of this war it will not. Remain at large the Sith do".

"Yes, yes", Palpatine raised one hand in a dismissive fashion; his disregard for the Jedi's theories of the Sith controlling the war had been apparent to them for some time, "But at this point, the Republic craves some relief. This may be what they are waiting for".

"So be it", Ki-Adi said, "But as for us, we need to return to the Temple and prepare for Grievous' arrival".

"Ah, yes. And what do you propose regarding Grievous' detainment for now, Master Jedi?" the Chancellor asked.

"For the moment, remain in the Temple Grievous will", Yoda replied, "Medical attention he requires, also high security. But in time, hand him over to you we will, for imprisonment if Senate wishes it so".

The Jedi rose to leave as Palpatine flexed his fingers, "Very well. I concur. I will order a session of the Senate within the next few days. In the mean time, good luck with handling Grievous, Master Jedi".

* * *

"Where am I?" Grievous roared.

Mace Windu looked up at him, tired-eyed, "We're in a shuttle heading for Coruscant's surface. We've just left the Republic starship the Dominator".

Aayla Secura, Clone Commander Cal and a handful of Republic officers were in the small shuttle that contained the former Kaleesh warlord's bacta tank. It had been lifted carefully and gently out of the cruiser's medical bay and transported to the on-board shuttle as the Dominator emerged out of hyperspace above Coruscant. Grievous had been quiet, head bowed and eyes closed, for the last hour or so. But since the shuttle had taken off, he had burst back to life, and seemed determined to let everyone around him know what he thought of the proceedings.

"Cowards! Let me out of this cursed fishbowl at once!"

"We can't do that", Mace said slowly as if talking to a small child, "If we do, you'll die".

"Why didn't you let me die back on Cosko?" Grievous continued to rage, "At least you would have given me a warrior's death!"

The Jedi Master cracked his knuckles and hunched over, "Call it moral obligation".

"Moral obligation? And what is that? Foolishness! You, the female Jedi", his eyes darted in Aayla's direction and fixed on her, "You wouldn't have stuck me on this life-support, would you? You wanted me dead, didn't you?"

Aayla looked away and didn't reply, because she feared the answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mace look at her.

Grievous seemed to have recognized that he had touched a raw nerve, because he began to laugh a deep, throaty laugh. He continued to glare at Aayla as he cackled at her discomfort.

He was interrupted by the voice of the clone pilot from the cockpit, "We're touching down now on the landing pad".

"Good", Mace stood up as the shuttle began to descend "We need to get him inside as quickly as possible".

Immediately Grievous barked, "Inside where?"

Mace heaved a weary sigh, "The Jedi Temple".

There was a silence. Even the Republic officers tensed, sensing the raw emotions whirling around Grievous. After a few seconds, Grievous predictably bellowed in rage.

"What! The Jedi Temple? The Jedi Temple! Are you mocking me?" before Mace could answer Grievous snarled, "I'll be dead before I'm thrust in there like some kind of trophy for the Jedi scum to smirk at! You", he looked at Aayla again, "Unplug this life support system, now".

The bluntness of his order stunned the other occupants of the shuttle. Slowly, Aayla dared to look up at him, her brown eyes haunted with fatigue, physical pain, emotional pain and uncertainty.

"What?" she whispered.

"You heard me, idiot! Pull out these cables and shut down the system. You want me dead, I know it. I should be dead in minutes, right Master Jedi?" the last comment was directed as Mace before he turned his attention back to Aayla, "Hurry, twi'lek. I don't wish to be alive when we touch down on Coruscant".

Aayla didn't respond, completely overwhelmed by the insanity of the situation. Here she was in a shuttle with cloned human soldiers for the Republic, her esteemed superior Mace Windu whose life she had saved a few hours earlier, and a seemingly insane warlord who was screaming at her to kill him.

"Well? Are you braindead?" Grievous kept snapping off the orders and insults, not even allowing for a few second's delay.

Something fierce welled up within Aayla, something she hadn't experienced before, not in all of the Clone War and all of her Jedi training. She began to feel hot and annoyed, even angry. She looked at Grievous.

"Shut up".

Grievous stared. Everyone was quiet.

"What?" Grievous eventually rasped.

"I said shut up", Aayla replied instantly.

"Shut up? Who are you to give me orders, you insignificant Jedi…"

"I'm someone who has the power of life and death over you right now", Aayla snapped, "And I'm choosing not kill you. Maybe you do deserve to die, but that's not a decision I'm going to make. Now for God's sake, just shut up".

The awkward silence returned again: awkward because the somewhat pompous Republic officers were staring at her as if she mad, awkward because she could feel Mace's intense disapproval at her words and actions, and awkward because everyone could feel Grievous' murderous hatred blaring at Aayla.

"You Jedi witch", he snarled in a far quieter voice, "So you won't kill me. Then when the opportunity comes, I'll kill you".

Nobody spoke during the landing, as the cargo door slid open and the light of a Coruscant morning flared on them. The Jedi and officers rose to their feet: the officers went their own way, heading back for the Senate Arena with their various reports for Palpatine's military advisers. Mace and Aayla were greeted by several other Jedi.

"Master Windu, Master Secura", Obi-Wan Kenobi bowed his head in a mutual display of respect, his smooth face displaying a heart-warming smile, at least in Aayla's view, "We've heard everything, and we're here to take you back to the Temple".

Mace nodded, "Good. Aayla needs to return to the Temple for further medical attention and rest. As for the cargo", he raised his eyebrows in a significant manner, "He must be transported to the medical centre in the Temple. Maximum security and as many medics as can be spared".

"The cargo transport is here already", Obi-Wan said and turned to his former apprentice, the legendary Anakin Skywalker, "Anakin, get the Temple communications on the commlink and give them the medic order".

The longhaired, handsome young Anakin inclined his head and pulled out his commlink "Yes Master".

Behind the Jedi, a large, three meter tall durasteel droid on two sturdy legs lumbered over. The droid was a 1W-37 Salvager – a cargo droid designed for transport. A pair of grasping pincers on the front of the droid were already in motion as the Jedi stepped aside, allowing the Salvager room to reach to the shuttle.

As the droid went to work, the few Jedi merged and began separate conversations about the war, the recent events and the political events. Aayla was about ready to collapse from weariness when she saw a familiar face and smiled. Jedi Master Kit Fisto, the Nautolan on the Council, approached her.

"Are you alright, Aayla? I heard of the events when Mace briefed the Council. I was worried for you".

Aayla smiled, "I'm fine, Kit. Or at least, I will be when we get back to the Temple".

Kit flashed his white-toothed smile, "Good. Glad to hear it Aayla".

Not for the first time, Aayla felt the odd urge to collapse against Kit's chest and sleep. It was strange. She decided it must be because she was so tired. At any rate, she was glad to be able to talk to someone so informally and so warmly for a change.

The various conversations suddenly halted when the Salvager droid wheeled about, the bacta tank carefully held in its pincers. For most of the Jedi standing there, it was their first glimpse of the infamous General Grievous, the murderer of their comrades, friends and family, the butcherer of millions of innocents.

He looked oddly helpless, pinned and strapped up by the life support system. He was silent as they looked at him and he looked back at them, his eyes sweeping over them deliberately.

Finally, Grievous saw one of them that caused him to speak up, "General Kenobi, no doubt".

Obi-Wan stroked his beard and arched one eyebrow, "Impressive since we've never met before, General".

Grievous snorted, "It could only be you, with that thin-veiled arrogance and cockiness. And you", he glanced at Anakin, "You're Skywalker, I assume. Although I'm surprised the pair of you are on Coruscant at all: shouldn't you be off saving the galaxy from the oppression of the droid army in the Outer Rim worlds?"

The reaction to Grievous' sarcasm was limited to Obi-Wan smiling politely, "Not right now, General. We're on leave".

"I didn't know Jedi were given leave from duty. I thought they were ordered to parade around the galaxy during their spare time, condescending and interfering where they're not needed. A sort of holiday for them".

Mace had heard enough banter, "To the Jedi Temple", he motioned to the Salvager droid.

The robot began to clatter along and the Jedi walked with it. Aayla saw Obi-Wan shake his head in bewildered amusement: Anakin on the other hand clenched his fists and lowered his head.

Aayla walked alongside Kit, hobbling a little because of her wound and her general condition. Almost immediately Kit held out his arm for Aayla to lean on as they walked. She gratefully accepted the invitation and used him for support as they followed the droid back to the Temple.

The gantries and platforms were empty: the shuttle had landed within the proximity of the Jedi Temple. The four-spired building loomed up before them as they walked along, chatting to each other in a manner Aayla found surprisingly casual for the moment.

* * *

Darth Tyranus waited patiently in his personal quarters on board the Invisible Hand. He had tried to contact Sidious immediately after he had had his revelation about Grievous, but the channel wasn't open: Sidious was busy. However, Sidious was very precise with his communications, and Dooku was sure that he would hear from him again in moments.

It was truly unfortunate, what had happened to Grievous, Dooku thought as he turned to look at the stars out the window. It wasn't that he was a necessary ally, a comrade on equal footing, or even a collaborator in the larger scheme. In fact, as far as Grievous knew, the intentions of the Dark Lords of the Sith were pure and simple: to take over the Republic with the Separatists and establish a new order for themselves.

However, the truth was much more complex than that.

The Clone Wars were merely a huge ruse by the Sith: admittedly a very complex one, but nonetheless a ruse. The irony of the matter was that both the Confederacy and the Republic were led by a Sith Lord: Darth Tyranus was playing the role as Count Dooku, former Jedi who wished to overthrow the corrupt Republic, and Darth Sidious was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, humble politician who was doing his best to lead the Republic past these difficult times into a bright future.

And no one suspected this. Not even the Jedi. They would soon taste the bitter irony: they were serving under a Dark Lord of the Sith, and were pawns and puppets to him.

The time for that irony was drawing near. It was still not here, but it was approaching.

Dooku smiled. He was tired of this war: he wished for the conflict to end, for the Separatists and the Jedi to be destroyed, and for the Sith to rule the galaxy. He was tired of being the villain of this piece. That was what Grievous was for.

In Grievous, Tyranus and Sidious had found the ideal tool. Dooku had no intention to be a commander of battle droids, and the bumbling businessmen of the Separatists were certainly not suited for the task. This became apparent when, early in the first year of the war, the Separatists were beaten back further than was intended.

So Grievous had entered the picture. He had devastated worlds, personally murdered Jedi and struck fear throughout the galaxy. Not only was he a superb field commander, but also he was an excellent scapegoat. When the war was over, Dooku could hardly be held responsible for the atrocities of the droid army. No indeed: that would be a weight Grievous was to bear. Thus Dooku would be pardoned and allowed into the New Order by the gracious Chancellor Palpatine.

No, not Chancellor Palpatine by the, Dooku mused. Emperor Palpatine.

Behind him the hologram transmitter flared to life. The ghost-like image of Darth Sidious appeared, hooded and shrouded in robes that covered all but the lower portion of his face, even though Dooku knew perfectly well his true identity.

"Lord Tyranus", he said in a terse voice.

"My Master", Dooku bowed genially.

"You contacted me, my apprentice".

"Yes indeed, my Master. I have unfortunate news".

Something twitched in Sidious' facial expression, "I have already heard it. General Grievous has been captured by the Republic".

Dooku blinked in surprise, but then realized it wasn't surprising Sidious knew. The Jedi had probably contacted the Chancellor as soon as possible, eager to share the information of their little success.

Dooku said, "Yes, my Lord. On the planet Cosko, as you are no doubt aware. Although the circumstances are still vague for myself".

Sidious sneered, "Remain in the dark no longer. He was overpowered by Jedi Master Windu and another, and mortally wounded. At the moment he is being held in the Jedi Temple. He will survive".

"I see", Dooku remained quiet: he could sense Sidious' displeasure. The moments when Sidious had been angry before him were slim: this was one of them.

"This is unforeseen, Lord Tyranus. Unforeseen and unwelcome. This turn of events threatens to hinder our plans".

"Grievous is so essential for this war?"

"At the moment, yes", Sidious' gritty voice was stern and snappish, "We cannot allow for the Republic to maintain any form of victory for long at this point in time. The capture of Grievous will hearten the Senate and encourage a few of the more troublesome ones to push for negotiations with the Separatists. Also, the Confederacy army will start to fail without his leadership".

"We have other commanders", Dooku ventured.

"Of course, but none with the reputation of Grievous. His image has been carefully crafted to provide a vision of terror for the Republic citizens. It will not be easy to replace him".

"Then what do you propose?"

"I am uncertain", Sidious could see Dooku's surprise at these words, "Yes, Lord Tyranus, even I can be caught off guard. I am not unerring. However, setbacks are only temporary. I will soon find a way to engineer these events to my favour", he shifted in his voluminous robes and continued in a quiet voice, "Yes, it won't take me long to put matters back on track. Anything the Jedi throw at me, I can throw back at them with a great deal more impact".

"Masterful as ever, my Lord",

Sidious' voice returned to its usual harsh fashion, "Did you contact me for any other reason?"

"No, my Master. Although I have sent the Separatist leaders back to their home planets. Doubtless they will take this news badly".

Raising one hand in dismissal, the Dark Lord said, "Their opinions and complaints do not matter. We will soon return events to their normal course, or better. If that's all then, Lord Tyranus, I bid thee fare well".

Dooku bowed again, "Fare well, my Master".

The image of Sidious faded. Dooku did not stand straight until it had disappeared completely. Then he produced a commlink from his belt and activated it.

Presently, the stuttering voice of the Neimodian Captain of the Invisible Hand from the bridge was heard, "My Lord Count".

"Captain, have your communications officer make contact with the Separatist Leadership Council. Give them this message: 'General Grievous has been captured by the Jedi on Cosko. The situation is under control. Await further instruction'".

"Yes, My Lord Count".

"Oh, and advise your communications officer to hang up immediately after you inform Viceroy Nute Gunray before he gets an earful of griping".


	12. Crushed warlord

Author's note: After a few helpful hints to update (hehehe, all reviews much appreciated) I finally got this posted. Apologies for the wait, been busy in work.

Anyway, about the vocabulator vs. the vocoder thing – turns out that the two terms are interchangeable, according to Star Wars wikipedia when I looked one of them up. Yo, many thanks for mentioning that.

Anyway, here's an update. Please read and review if you got the time.

* * *

Aayla stepped into her room in the Jedi Temple living quarters. She breathed a sigh of familiar relief at her dwelling, or as she dared to call it, home. It seemed like a long time since she had seen it: in fact it was before she had set out for the mission on Inacc, let alone Cosko.

The room was bare and featureless, with dull red carpets and a single humble bed. Two chairs, a bedside cabinet, a cupboard and a bathroom completed her home. She smiled in appreciation of the cosy setting and walked over to the bed. She unhooked her battered lightsaber from her belt and placed it on the bedside cabinet before lying on the bed, flat on her back facing the ceiling. She was so incredibly tired, and could already feel weariness taking her…

There was a knock on her door. She rose to her feet and unlocked the door with a minor manipulation of the Force. The door slid open and Kit Fisto walked in.

"Hello, Aayla. I hope I'm not interrupting anything", he said pleasantly.

"No, of course not Kit", she yawned and sat back down on the bed as she motioned to a chair, "Take a seat".

The Nautolan nodded and sat down, "So you've been to the medical centre, I see?" he commented, gesturing at a bandage on her right arm.

"Yeah, I just got back", she replied, "The droids were pretty quick to patch me up and they said I should be in perfect shape again pretty soon, but I'm excused military duty for a minimum of two weeks".

Kit smiled, "Good, Aayla. I'm glad you actually bothered to visit the medical centre this time. Remember what happened after the Bellator mission?"

She laughed light-heartedly, "Are you still going on about that?"

"Oh yes", he did his best to look stern, something that seemed impossible for this particular Jedi Master, "A droideka bolt to the waist is something that requires immediate medical attention, young Secura".

She arched an eyebrow, "It only skimmed me!"

"Be that as it may, you should have followed my orders, young Secura".

Aayla sniggered at Kit's attempt to look serious, and before long he beamed and laughed, "Alright, so I can't play the serious Jedi Master. I'll get Master Windu in here if you want to be further admonished".

"No, I think I've had enough scolding today", she replied, "I shall strive to follow your teachings closer in future, Master Fisto".

The pair of them laughed again. Aayla felt good. It was great to laugh again, and it was something so easy to do with Kit around. He was living proof that the Jedi Council weren't as stuffy as some beings thought: in fact he was more childish and silly than the youngest Jedi trainees. How he managed to sit around in the circle of powerful Jedi Masters and hold his own in conservations, meetings and debates was a mystery to Aayla.

"I'm here for a reason actually, Aayla", Kit said, snapping Aayla back to the moment.

"Oh, you're not just here for my private entertainment?" she grinned.

"No, I'm afraid not. Master Windu asked me to give you a message. You see, the clones on Cosko have captured Grievous' shuttle and have sent it back to Coruscant".

"And?"

"Well, it contains most of Grievous' personal possessions, few though they apparently are. What is included though is all of the lightsabers he took".

Aayla sat bolt upright, "What?"

"Oh yeah. Nearly one hundred lightsabers in total. Master Yoda is calling a meeting for the Jedi who have connections with the stolen sabers to collect them: Masters of slain Padawans, Padawans of slain Masters, next of kin, and in some cases, the still-living owners".

Slowly, Aayla nodded, "Of course. He claimed several sabers off us at Hypori without actually killing us all".

"Yes. In fact, your saber has been identified already".

Aayla started. She had never expected to see that lightsaber again. It had been the first she had constructed: unlike many Jedi she had not constructed a new one after passing the Trials to Knighthood. She had used it for the best part of twenty years, always taking great care of it. And then Grievous had taken it from her for his own amusements.

"I see", Aayla said.

"The meeting will be tomorrow at noon. Will you be there?"

"Yes, I will", Aayla smiled up at him, "Thanks for letting me know, Kit".

"No problem, Aayla", Kit placed a hand on her shoulder before rising and turning to leave.

Before he walked out of the door, he turned to look at her, "Take care of yourself, Aayla".

"You too, Kit".

He left and Aayla was alone. She curled up on the bed and fell into deep sleep.

* * *

"What's the condition of the patient?" Mace asked as he whisked over to Ki-Adi-Mundi.

Ki-Adi was standing looking through the window of the operating theatre, "He's stable. The operation is proceeding as planned".

The two Jedi Masters looked on as nearly a dozen state-of-the-art medic droids went to work on the comatose form of Grievous. The cyborg had been anesthetized without difficulty, in fact since his arrival at the Temple he had lapsed back into silence again, even refusing to acknowledge the explanation of the operation by the medic droids. He was now removed from the bacta tank although he was still wired up to life support systems on the operation table.

As Mace and Ki-Adi watched, several more droids rolled into the room. These weren't medic droids: they were in fact here for the technological side of the operation. Great damage had been caused to his robotic torso where Aayla had stabbed him, many of his circuits had overloaded during the battle and there was the extensive slash on his shoulder caused by Mace Windu.

The droids went to work, sparks flying as they went to work on the General with immaculate precision and speed. None of the droids got in each other's way and they co-operated silently.

The two Jedi were lost in their own thoughts as they watched the proceedings. After half an hour the droid in charge of the operation hovered over to them.

"The operation is going well", it stated in its blank monotone voice, "The patient is recovering from the injury exceptionally well".

Mace nodded. That didn't surprise him. He was fully aware just how tough Grivous was: he had the scars to prove it.

"The bodywork on the cybernetics is obviously unique, however", the droid continued, "We were unable to locate any matching parts, and so we have performed makeshift repairs with other droid parts. It should suffice until we construct the correct parts".

"And what of his bodily damage?" Ki-Adi asked.

"As I said, he is recovering well. The wound was cauterized and so prevented too much vital fluid being lost; however his lungs have been a little burned. He is going to be in a stable position after the operation: however he will not be permitted to move".

"I don't think that'd be a good idea even if he were physically able to", Mace said grimly.

The droid did not acknowledge his comment, "The patient will require a further operation soon. Hopefully by then we will be able to provide the correct droid parts and also Kaleesh internal organs. At the moment he should be kept motionless and secure, and on a life-support system".

"Very well. Thank you for the update", Mace said and he and Ki-Adi walked away as the droid returned to oversee the last stages of the operation, "Not many cyborgs have passed through the Temple's doors, Master Mundi".

Ki-Adi nodded his his grave head, "No. But I am surprised with the progress of the operation, given its complex nature. It seems that even this cannot keep Grievous down".

* * *

Two hours of blissful sleep had passed for Aayla after Kit had left. She couldn't remember ever feeling so grateful for comfort. However, her luxurious resting was interrupted after a knock on the door. She jumped awake and stood up.

"It's open", she called.

The door slid open and to her surprise, Mace Windu stepped inside, filling the doorframe with his solid build. He nodded to her in acknowledgment.

"Master Secura, how are you feeling?"

"Fine, Master Windu. Yourself?"

"Better than I was", Mace could feel the stinging pain in his leg where Grievous' talons had seized him.

"What brings you here, Master?" Aayla asked, moving to pull back the shutters over the window.

"He's asking for you", Mace said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Lost in her thoughts, Aayla whirled around, "Kit?"

Mace looked at her sceptically, "Master Fisto? No, why would he be asking for you? Hasn't he given you the message about the meeting?"

Aayla realized her error, "Sorry, Master, Yes, he has been here. But who is asking for my presence?"

"Grievous".

Aayla paused. Mace didn't move or say anything.

"Why?" Aayla eventually asked.

"I don't know", the Jedi Master said, "The first operation is finished and he's fully conscious. He's being held in the holding room, but he's restrained for now on a life support system".

Aayla nodded slowly, looking down at the floor.

"Aayla", Mace said in less formal, more kindly tone, "If you don't want to, you don't have to. It's not a Jedi order, it's a request from him alone".

The twi'lek considered it. What on earth would Grievous want to see her for? And furthermore, could she force herself to go and see the psychopath? His presence was the most unsettling thing she'd ever felt.

But her duty as a Jedi took over, "I'll go to him now, Master Windu".

Mace nodded, "Very well. Good luck. If things get bad, just leave. And remember not to worry – he can't hurt you".

* * *

The dark room was cast in blinking red and green lights, reflecting off the duranium armour of the cyborg General. Aayla entered through the small door as the various control panels and life systems beeped and flickered around her. Grievous was hung up before her, with his arms hooked up above his head and his legs disabled by bands of wires. Various tubes were linked to Grievous' organ sack, and Aayla noticed the silver metal work where the repair droids had had to synthesize substitution plating.

Aayla was silent when she stepped into the little room. The bleeping of the controls was regular and shrill, and the General was wheezing as he had done before his injury, except even more severely.

The Jedi waited a moment for a reaction. After a moment, Grievous coughed loud and bitterly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Are you in pain?" Aayla decided to risk asking.

There was no answer. Grievous was motionless.

"Can you hear me?" she tried again, to no avail, "Grievous?"

She was beginning to give up and was considering turning away when Grievous rasped, "Yes".

Aayla looked at him, "What?"

He coughed again, and then looked up, opening his eyes, "You asked if I was in pain. Yes, I am in pain".

"Oh. Do you need me to get a medic droid?"

"No".

Grievous winced again as a shuddering cough erupted from his torso. After he had finished his convulsions, he looked into a distant corner of the room.

"Skywalker's young", he said quietly.

Aayla's brow creased in confusion, "What?"

"Anakin Skywalker. He's younger than I expected".

For a moment Aayla tried to figure out how his statement related to anything they'd been talking about. She couldn't find anything. Was he…trying to make conversation?

Eventually Aayla said, "Yes, he's young. A real protégé".

"Younger than you, even", Grievous continued, "But he has quite a reputation".

"Yes", Aayla replied, musing on Anakin. The so-called Chosen One, Anakin was a well-known face in the Jedi Temple. However Aayla had never really mixed with him very well. He was too sullen, snappish and cocky for Aayla to be able to want to spend any real amount of time with him. But from what she had seen of his skills, she knew he was an exceptionally talented Jedi, at the level of a Jedi Master despite having only recently been promoted to a Jedi Knight.

"Not to say that you're not skilled", Grievous declared, turning to her, "Look what you managed to do to me".

There was very little to say to that. She waited.

"Are you proud of your victory?" Grievous asked.

"No", Aayla said.

"Lies", Grievous snarled instantly, "I saw the flourish of triumph in your eyes when you struck me down".

Aayla sighed, "What do you want, Grievous?"

He chuckled maliciously and seemed to lean forward, "The same thing you want. I want you to kill me".

She stared, "What?"

"You heard. I asked you before on the shuttle", he reared up as far as his restraints would allow him, "I want to die".

Aayla opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. Finally she asked, "Why?"

A spasm wracked through Grievous' body and he coughed and hacked frantically, his explosive exhales punctuated by laboured wheezing. When he had finished, his voice was even more hoarse than usual and his eyes were tinged with red.

"Why do you think, Jedi?! This pain is too severe and the humiliation of being held prisoner by the Jedi is worse. Now I'm going to tell you again. Unplug this life support system and let me die".

"Not a chance", Aayla replied, somewhat harshly for some reason.

"Are you worried about repercussions? You don't need to be", he angled his mask to peer at her, "Tell them I struggled and began to escape and went to kill you. And tell them you had no choice but to switch the system off otherwise I'd escape".

She shook her head and spoke without thinking, "They'd never believe that".

"Hah!" he yelled in triumph, "So you don't reject the idea out of morality, merely out of practicality? Good".

Aayla shook her head furiously, "No, that's not it".

"Isn't it?" he continued, savouring the moment, "Admit it, Jedi. You want me dead".

"You're wrong".

"Oh, am I? I saw the look in your eyes when you wounded me. You were triumphant, thrilled, pleased to defeat a powerful foe. Just like me".

"You're wrong", Aayla repeated, hoping that was true.

"But it's more than that", Grievous continued, clearly enjoying himself, "I killed your comrades, didn't I? I slaughtered them like they were farm animals. And I enjoyed it. I was going to kill you, and I would have enjoyed that too".

Droplets formed in the corners of Aayla's eyes, misting her vision. She bowed her head and looked away from Grievous, suddenly awash with emotions as she hadn't been in a long time. The General's words were finding their mark as she remembered the deaths of not only Gwangi, Derturo and Jular, but also K'Kruhk, Tarr Seirr, Master Daakman Barrek and Sha'a Gi who had met their ends at the Hypori mission. But she also shed tears for all the Jedi who'd met their ends with the hideously fast blades of General Grievous.

"So you enjoyed trying to kill me, didn't you?" Grievous was relentless and pressed the advantage, "You want me dead, Jedi, and you know it".

"You're wrong!" Aayla yelled again.

This time, she lifted her head to stare Grievous directly in the eyes. She was sure of herself now. She would never want to kill another being, even one as vile as Grievous. She owed it to her dead comrades to fulfil her oath as a Jedi.

However, Grievous was undeterred, "Hah. Suppose I was to kill the Nautolan Jedi?"

Aayla froze and said without thinking, "Kit?"

Grievous snorted, "Ah, that's him? The "'hero" of the Battle of Dac on Mon Calamari? I saw you talk with him on the landing platform. He's a close friend? Well, imagine his saber dangling from my belt, another sad statistic in the Jedi Archives".

There was no reply. Aayla stared directly ahead, unblinking for a moment. Grievous leered and sneered in triumph. The regular beeping and twittering of the life support system was suddenly very loud, reminding both of them just how vulnerable Grievous was.

Aayla looked at the cables and tubes connected to the cyborg's vitals. All it would take was a quick flick of her fingers and the system would shut down, with Grievous dead in moments.

She looked up from the flashing control panels to Grievous' illuminated face and said, "Never", before turning and walking out of the room, leaving the bio-droid alone.


End file.
